Panem-616
by Jamie Lucas Summers
Summary: FACEBOOK/Panem616
1. Introduction to Panem-616

**This Fanfiction and Roleplay contains characters from The Hunger Games Universe (owned by Suzanne Collins) and the Marvel Cinematic Universe (owned by The Walt Disney Company), as well as various popular film-characters, credited where necessary.**

**The Main Characters (The Gamemakers, et al.) are Original Characters, as are, in the Roleplay Universe, the 24 Tributes in each Games.**

**_Warning: this FanFiction and Roleplay contains scenes of Violence and Serious Injury. Coarse Language is occasionally used.  
Any resemblance to real-life people is coincidental.  
_**

* * *

_**"So many battles waged over the years, and yet, none of them like this. Are we destined to destroy each other, or can we change who we are and unite? Is the future truly set?"  
**_~President Coriolanous Snow, from his 1989 address to the Citizens of Panem, following the events of the Lesser District Revolt

**Panem-616:** an alternate universe based on Suzanne Collins' Books 'The Hunger Games'  
_also: _A secret organisation that exists in the Capitol to deal with Covert Operations that works alongside the Peacekeepers.  
_based on: _The Facebook Roleplay-Film Universe **Panem-616: A HGRP**

_This page exists as an easy-access for the Gamemaker Scenes of **Panem-616: A HGRP  
**__As well as an advertisement for FanFiction users to experience the world of Roleplay  
__As well as a story for those able enough to follow it.  
__Please visit the Facebook page if interested._

N.B. This FanFiction and Roleplay contains relatively few characters from Suzanne Collins' 'The Hunger Games'

**Log on to Facebook. **Type _/Panem616_ following the web-address.

_View __Photos__ for the Gamemaker Scenes and Complete Roleplayed Scenes  
__View __Notes__ for a further understanding of_ **Panem-616.**

**CHARACTERS OF PANEM-616:**

**Positions of State**

**President: **Coriolanus Snow  
**HGM: **James Howlett  
**Deputy GM: **Hunter Lancaster  
**GM: **Ryan Calder  
**GM In-Training: **Plutarch Heavensbee  
**Chief Science Officer:** Arnim Zola  
**Junior Science Officer:** Robert Banner  
**Chief Medical Officer:** Abraham Erskine  
**Head of Internal Affairs: **Brock Rumlow  
**Foreign Minister:** Sam Wilson  
**The Consultant:** Anthony Stark  
**Director of Media, Master of Ceremonies:** Caesar Flickerman  
**Commander of Ceremonies:** Claudius Templesmith

**Buildings**

The Triskelion: **First Building; Headquarters of Panem-616; Presidential Building  
**The Hub: **Second Building; Headquarters of HYDRA**

**The Peacekeepers**

**Director of Training:** Victoria Hand  
**Commander of Peacekeeper XI Legion:** Julius Tellman  
Alison Hart  
Charissa Sosa  
Clint Barton

**The Agents**

**Director of Panem-616: **Brock Rumlow (10)  
**Deputy Director of Panem-616: **Sam Wilson (8)  
**Deputy Director of Panem-616**: Julius Tellman (8)  
Ethan Hunt (8)  
Antoine Triplett (7)  
Thomas Anderson (6)

**Organisations**

**Capitol Secret Police:** Protocol and Aptitude National Espionage Missions Division-616/Panem-616  
**District Police:** Peacekeepers  
**Capitol Science Division:** HYDRA  
**Mercenary External Science Division:** Skynet

**CAST OF PANEM-616:**

Coriolanus Snow - Donald Sutherland  
James Howlett - Lucas Till  
Hunter Lancaster - Paul Wesley  
Ryan Calder - Arran Sly  
Young Plutarch Heavensbee - Matt Damon  
Arnim Zola - Toby Jones  
Robert Banner - Edward Norton  
Abraham Erskine - Mark Strong  
Anthony Stark - Robert Downey Junior  
Caesar Flickerman - Stanley Tucci  
Brock Rumlow - Frank Grillo  
Julius Tellman - Aaron Eckhart  
Samuel Wilson - Anthony Mackie  
Antoine Triplett - B. J. Britt  
William Cooper - Karl Urban  
Thomas Anderson - Keanu Reeves  
Victoria Hand - Jessica Alba  
William Barton - Jeremy Renner  
Alison Hart - Jessica Biel  
Charissa Sosa - Adrianne Palicki  
The Triskelion - The Triskelion (Earth-616)  
The Hub - The Chrysler Building  
Skynet - Ellen McLain (voice)

**TIMELINE OF THE PANEM-616 UNIVERSE**

_Based on The Hunger Games Timeline  
__And The Real World Timeline_

1918: Battle of the Somme – German powers victorious (General Bismarck returns to rally)  
1918: French and British forces surrender  
1919: Treaty of Versailles – U.S.A. and European Coalition swear loyalty to Germany  
1919: THE PURGING - 'Inferior Species' exterminated by Nazi Party  
1919: Protests across German Reich  
-Assassination of General Bismarck – Germany in uproar  
1920: German Campaign of U.S.A.  
1920: Battle of Yorktown – Germans Victorious  
1920: Americans surrender  
1922: United States of America merged with Canada and Latin America to make a 'super-country'  
-Renamed 'New German Reich' or 'Fourth German Reich'  
-German Capitol moved to Denver, Colorado  
1923: Denver, CO renamed 'The Capitol'  
1923: System of 'Peacekeepers' introduced in New German Reich  
1924: New German Reich becomes a Democracy  
-English becomes main language of New German Reich  
-New German Reich pays off World Natural Debts  
-The Capitol – Cultural City of the World  
1930: WORLD FOOD CRISIS  
-Mass Immigration of World Population to New German Reich  
1931: System of DISTRICTS introduced to deal with over-population  
-Each District given a subject of production as main Good trade  
-13 Districts in Total  
1934: ICE-CAP MELTING  
-Huge influx of water from the North floods Eurasia Continents (Old German Empire) and Africas  
-Refuge Camps set up in District 11 of Panem for African Immigrants  
1935: Rise of National Socialist New German Worker's Party (Nazi)  
-Senate Leader: Johann Snow (D2)  
1936: Democracy forced abdication to Absolutism by Nazi Party  
-Johann von Snow as First Chancellor of NGR  
-Taxes begin doubling every year  
-Removal of 'Rights of Man' (Period known as The Great Depression)  
-Attempts of Reform for Refugees Abandoned  
-Poverty  
1939 July 28: Mass District Revolt against Nazi Party  
-Led by Baron Wolfgang von Strucker (D8) and Captain Steven Grant Rogers (D13)  
1939 August: Panem in Full District War  
-Republican Governments set up in District 8 and 13  
-Capitol: Full Control over Peacekeepers  
-First use of Mockingjays to spy on rebelling Districts  
-Nuclear Summit between Capitol and District 13  
1939: Revolt Crushed  
-D13 Obliterated  
-D8 under rebel  
-Two Leaders 'missing'  
-NGR cities left to smoking ashes  
-NGR renamed 'Panem' in rebirth propoganda  
-Panem's Population Decimated  
1940: Treaty of the Treason  
-Panem made an Absolutist Constitutional Government  
-Demands 'Annual Hunger Games,' date set to 4th July, Annually  
**1940: 1st AHG – **Matthew Ellis D1  
1942: Peacekeepers given _Phaser_ guns invented by Nazi Science Division 'HYDRA'  
1945: Death of President Johann Snow (Nazi Party)  
-Succession by his son, President Alexander Pierce Snow (LAPD party - Liberty and Parlimenatry Democrats)  
**1948: 9th AHG – **Mags Cohen D4  
1950: Liberalism introduced, President Nicholas Snow (nicknamed: Nixno) wins support of citizens  
**1956: 17th AHG – **Woof Casino D8  
1960 July: **First meeting of Panem-616 **under old-Panem flag  
1961: Suspense of Capitol Citizen's Priveliges, Support given to Districts  
1962 August: ASSASSINATION of 6 Leading' LAPD members (suspected Poison)  
-Foiled attempt of Assassination of President Nixno  
-Rebel uprisings against government, protest for the disbanding of Absolutism  
-Rebels rally at the Isle of Cuba, bringing all weapons, nuclear and artillery ot the island  
-Rebels threaten nuclear attack  
1963 October: Treaty of District Four  
-President Snow makes Government Constitutional Democracy  
-Missile Firing from Cuba averted (known as: The Cuban Missile Crisis)  
-Rebels disband  
1963 February: ASSASSINATION of President Nicholas Snow (suspected Poison)  
-Coriolanus Snow, President in emergency re-election  
-Nazi Nationalist Army storm Island of Cuba, mass-slaughtering of rebel-force guards  
-Cuban Missiles taken for use by the Capitol, Nazi Party. Threat of use quitens rebel crowds.  
1964: Removal of Liberties  
-Threat of Cuban Missiles quietens potential rebellions  
**1972: 33rd AHG – **Seeder Howell D11  
**1974: 35th AHG – **Beetee Latier D3  
**1977: 38th AHG – **Wiress Plummer D3  
1979: Invention of _Hologram Projection_ by previous Victors Beete Latier and Wiress Plummer  
**1982: 43rd AHG – **Lyme Rabe D2  
**1984: 45th AHG – **Chaff Mitchell D11  
**1986: 47th AHG – **Brutus Gunn D2  
-President Ellis becomes State Leader of the LAPD  
1988: Elections President Ellis wins Presidential Election  
-Capitol Senate in uproar  
1989 January: President Ellis announces the HALTING of the Annual Hunger Games  
1989 March: ASSASSINATION of President Ellis (suspected Poison)  
1989 April: Emergency Election: President Alma Coin (LAPD)  
1989 April: (after 9 days), Disappearance of Alma Coin  
1989 May: Emergency Election: President Coriolanus Snow (Nazi Party - renamed Committee of Pulic Safety)  
1989 May: Panem in Revolt (known as the Lesser District Revolt, or the Cold War)  
-Storming of Cuba stronghold and destruction of all nuclear and sub-nuclear weapons of army base  
-National Parade of Old-Panem flag  
1989 June: Mass killings demonstration in Districts 7, 12, 11, 9 and 10  
-Revolt silenced  
-First reported use of the _Hovercraft  
_**1989: 50th AHG – **Haymitch Abernathy D12 (N.B. SECOND QUARTER QUELL 48 Tributes)  
**1990: 51st AHG – **Blight Jordan D7  
**1997: 58th AHG – **Cecilia Sànchez D8  
**2000: 61st AHG – **Will Mason D11 (N.B. Youngest Ever Tribute to Win [age 14])  
**2001: 62nd AHG – **Enobaria Golding D2  
**2002: 63rd AHG – **Gloss Ritchson D1  
**2003: 64th AHG – **Cashmere Ritchson D1  
**2004: 65th AHG – **Annie Cresta D4  
-Tsunami in South-West of Panem causes Dam to break, mass flooding cross-continent  
**2005: 66th AHG** - **The Hungry Pacman Games – No Victor  
****2006: 67th AHG **-** A Game of Drones – In Progress  
**2014: 75th AHG – (THIRD QUARTER QUELL)

* * *

From the 66th Annual Hunger Games onwards, the events of the Hunger Games themselves have been Roleplayed by Tributes.

66 has no Gamemaker Scenes

The following Chapters are from the 67th Annual Hunger Games - A Game of Drones

FACEBOOK/panem616


	2. The Hungry Pacman Games (66)

'**THE HUNGRY PACMAN GAMES'  
**was the 66th Annual Hunger Games,  
and the first Hunger Games ever Roleplayed

on FACEBOOK/panem616

Summary: A labyrinth-like Pacman-based arena, with 24 Tributes.  
Gamemakers:  
HGM James Howlett  
HGM Hunter Lancaster

No Gamemaker Scenes were written.

It concluded with the final Tribute - the Victor, fighting a '_rock'_ mutt (visit FACEBOOK/panem616 for more details) and apparently being incinerated in a flash of white light.

The Epilogue:

The Victor (Taidgh Grant-Harris) appeared dead to the Capitol, instead, he was taken into an Interrogation Chamber in the Hub, where he was hijacked, brainwashed and made stronger. A skin-like covering was placed over a bionic arm he had gained in the arena.

Narrative begins from the 67th Annual Hunger Games

FACEBOOK/notes/panem-616-a-hgrp/the-hungry-pacman-games-66/598554323597164


	3. N is for Negotiator

**67TH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES**

**A GAME OF DRONES**

* * *

**FACEBOOK/Panem616/photos/a.604938946292035.1073741869.535825266536737/621228014663128/**

PROLOGUE  
'N' IS FOR NEGOTIATOR – A Panem-616 ONE-SHOT  
(recommended - read EPILOGUE (or SUMMARY) of last games)

Location: President Snow's Office, The Triskelion, Panem  
Date: ante diem Kalends II. Ianuarius; IV from gallicinium

Hunter hasn't been summoned.  
Usually he is.  
Summonings happens a lot to him, but he guesses it is part of the role.  
'The Negotiator' and all.  
It's his business to be at all the meetings and conflicts.  
But now? When it's not his time, he's not in control of the situation.  
He feels uneasy, unhappy.  
But James has told him everything already.  
He knows what's going on.  
So he has a fair amount of control.  
Time to swing it in his favour.  
They're all on the same side after all.

Hunter walks through the doors, and having done so, sees President Snow at his desk.  
Snow looks up, startled.  
"Lancaster?" he says, "I asked for Howlett."  
Hunter laughs at the old man's ineptitude, but proceeds anyway.  
"James is... indisposed. Last I checked, he was sitting very still with his eyes closed, murmuring about 'Judgment Day's.  
But anyway, why not talk to me?  
I speak for James.  
I am 'The Negotiator', after all."

Snow sighs, and draws himself upwards and leans forward while resting his palms on his mahogany desk: a posture of intimidation.  
Hunter raises an eyebrow.  
"You are 'the Negotiator'." Snow mocks. "Well I am the President.  
Gasconade titles mean nothing to me."  
He slowly steps back then walks around the still Hunter, hands behind his back, slowly circling the office, before stopping with his mouth directly next to Hunter's ear and speaking:  
"So if you speak for Howlett, ask him why he has chosen to hold a game with no Victors."

Hunter has a great urge to slap the annoying prescense next to his ear, but something tells him execution would follow, so he remains still and replies.  
"I don't see why the issue is so great. 23 Tributes would have died. In their eyes, one more makes no difference."

Snow resumes his circumvention and returns to his seat, lazily slouching on it, before returning his eyes to Hunter as though bored.  
"Lancaster... I will probably have this conversation with a dozen Gamemakers in the future, but... why do you think we have a winner?"  
Hunter frowns. "What do you mean?"  
Snow continues talking, as though to an idiot. "I mean, why do we have a winner? I mean, if we just wanted to intimidate the districts, why not round up twenty-four at random and execute them all at one? It would be a lot faster."  
Hunter just stares, confused, for once, lost for words.  
"Hope." Snow says.  
"Hope?"  
"Hope. It is the only thing stronger than fear. A little hope is effective. A lot of hope is dangerous. A spark is fine, it gives the weary gypsy a reason to continue, but only as long as it's contained." Snow demonstrates by raising his hand and a holographic flame appears and in it, images of the Districts at work appear, looking peaceful and ordered.  
"So...?"  
"Take that spark away, and then people get unhappy."  
Snow claps his hands, and when he opens them again, the fire shows images of the last Revolution, over 66 years ago, but still daunting, bodies, blood and gunfire.  
Hunter is mesmerized by the flickering blue light before a noise like an atom bomb fires and the images are still.

But Hunter plucks up the courage to speak again.  
He is the negotiator after all.  
"With all due respect sir, we have given them hope."  
Snow, raises his eyes, letting Hunter know he is on dangerous ground, but to continue.  
"Hope, with fear.  
The people were going complacent.  
The Games were no longer about 23 deaths, it was about the 1 survivor.  
They thought that we were bound by rules, that someone had to survive, and so that was a weakness.  
And if we have a weakness, we can be defeated.  
Well me and James, we've shown that we have no weakness.  
No rule binds the might of the Capitol.  
If you are not strong enough, you die."

Snow hesitates as he acceptes this, before turning away and gazing across the Capitol landscape, Hunter still unmoved behind him.  
"So why did you leave the boy alive?"  
Hunter's moment of glory is over.  
Oops.  
"Pardon, sir?"  
"The boy. Howlett filed a report. You have him at "The Hub" Cell 616. Howlett submitted the entry under 'Covert-Ops'."

Hunter curses.  
Luckily, Snow is facing the other way, so he lifts his voice as though he already knew this.  
"It's the long game.  
We've twisted his perception. Now he sees things our way.  
He has a new name, a new identity, and an absolute hatred of Tributes.  
He wants to see order, and he wants to see it by the Capitol.  
In short, he's a secret weapon.  
If we choose to reveal him later to the Districts, it will break them.  
And also...  
The boy has skills...sir.  
We have decided to make him my protogé, train him to become a GM.  
He can be both useful and a pawn in our long chess game."

Snow spins around at this.  
"Your protogé? Are you out of your mind? Howlett swore young Heavensbee would become the new GM-in-Training. I foresaw he would become Head Game-maker within the decade!"  
Hunter laughs.  
"With all due respect sir... the day Heavensbee becomes Head Game-Maker, the Capitol will come crashing down."

Snow considers this, but looks displeased.  
"In any case, Erskine and Zola are looking for a new apprentice, Banner is proving to be... blunder-prone.  
We thought it might be an idea to send him there; that way he can still be trained before his big campaign to GM-ship."  
Again, Snow begins to ponder, but then reaches a decision.  
"No. Keep Banner in the Gamma Lab, he shows promise there. Send Heavensbee to be trained under Howlett, I don't care how little time he has, tell him he has to do it."  
"Yessir," Hunter mock-salutes, already laughing at what James' reaction will be. "Anything else?" he says, walking towards the door.

"Yes, Lancaster" Snow stops to make sure Hunter meets his eyes. "These games had better be good."  
Hunter gives Snow a knowing glance.  
"Believe me sir, they are."  
Snow smiles, his first in over a month. "They'd better be. And i want new storylines! New plots! New weapon photos! And change that cover photo!"  
Lancaster doesn't look back, but stops again.  
"Of course."  
And then he continues on his way, letting the double doors shut behind him.

James is waiting round a corner, hidden in a shadow as usual.  
As Hunter passes, he walks behind him soundlessly, following down the passage without a break in either of their steps.  
"How did it go?" he asks.  
"Couldn't have been better." Hunter replies. "You have got to tell me how you do that, Snow always plays right into your hands."  
James taps his nose. "What can I say? I'm 'The Clairvoyant'."  
They laugh at the faux title and step into a lift, which beeps noisily.  
A female voice calls "The Hub, level 'Minus T-800."

"Did The Consultant pull through?" Hunter asks.  
"Yes. Stark has agreed to lends us the (pronounced as numbers) XVII, the XXXVIII, and the XXXIX."  
"The XXXVIII? Are you sure? It can be a little… uncontrollable."  
James laughs. "All the better."  
They continue down into the bunker, navigating their way through the passages, scanning their eyes at random checkpoints before continuing.  
"And who's going to control these… legionaries?"  
James taps his own wrist, causing a holographic blue triangle with a Y-shape in the centre, the top vertex forming a square, to glow upwards.  
"Skynet have kindly volunteered their services, but we'll probably take over halfway through."  
Hunter smiles. "Great. So we've got the soldiers ready."

"Yep," James says.  
The Clairvoyant and The Negotiator stop outside a door marked 'Stormcage, 426'.  
"Let's go get The Ghost then."

Panem-616: A HGRP will return.

'N' is for Negotiator

Featuring  
Hunter Lancaster as GM: The Negotiator  
James Howlett as HGM: The Clairvoyant  
Ryan Calder as GM: The Ghost  
And  
Donald Sutherland as Coriolanus Snow: The President


	4. E is for Enemy

**67TH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES**

**A GAME OF DRONES**

* * *

**FACEBOOK/Panem616/photos/a.604938946292035.1073741869.535825266536737/604938156292114/**

THE GAME-MAKERS CUT - PART 1  
''E' IS FOR ENEMY'

Taken from the Executive-Panem Data Index  
Category: Dangerous, Controlled

Full Name: HOWLETT, James (?)  
Previous Names: (?)  
Known Titles: The Clairvoyant, the Lonely One, Cerebro, James Ultor  
Known Abilities: Potent Clairvoyancy, Extremely High Intelligence, Arms and Combat Proficiency, Digital/A.I. Profficiency  
UNCONFIRMED - Coercive Persuasion, Telekinesis (? - Unknown Skill-Level; see Peacekeeper Databse)  
District of Origin: 5  
Current Occupation: High Game-Maker  
Background: UNKNOWN, UNCONFIRMED - early accidental exposion to radiation from D5 Central Power Plant  
Relatives: UNKNOWN  
Location: The Capitol  
Notes: Recommended Level 8 Mental Shielding to be pre-configured before any contact with subject  
Status: TRACKED

Full Name: LANCASTER, Hunter Shawn  
Previous Names: (?) Mason  
Known Titles: The Negotiator, The Trickster, The Crooked One, The Equivocator, The Duck  
Known Abilities: Pathokinesis (UNCONFIRMED - Uncontrollable), High Intelligence,  
UNCONFIRMED - (Weak) Thaumaturgy, (Temporary) Hypnotherapy Induction  
District of Origin: 11  
Current Occupation: Game-Maker  
Background: UNKNOWN (Currently being traced by Rumlow), Possible Corruption of 63rd Hunger Games Victor (Will Mason, see id. 4297841-12)  
(Records Edited by: PCS)  
Location: The Capitol  
Notes: Recommended Basic Psychic Training to be introduced to any Government members or Capitol citizens before contact  
Status: TRACKED

Full Name: CALDER, Ryan  
Previous Names: Harris, Taidgh Grant  
Known Titles: The Ghost, The Broken One, The Survivor  
Known Abilities: Superhuman Strength in Left Arm, Highly Proficient Weapon and Combat Training  
District of Origin: 2  
Current Occupation: Game-Maker  
Background: Volunteered for 66th Hunger Games, Prevailed over 23 Tributes, but was (by the public eye) incinerated by a Mutation Rock-Creature (see M.U.T.T.s, i.d. 10169456)  
Location: Stormcage Holding Cell, #426, The Hub  
Notes: Went through Brainwashing and Hijacking procedure, Overseen by HSL. 'Redesigned' with hatred of Tributes and those that break order. Experiments still undergoing on subject.  
Recorded crippling with mouth, food intake hindered, though may be psychosomatic, due to Calder's last kill to closest ally by affected regions.  
Prone to mental disorders (?), see append. 1 for latest psychological report.  
Status: MONITORED, in INCARCERATION

End of files.  
Further files have been corrupted (?) or protected - seal PCS.


	5. G is for Gamemaker

**67TH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES**

**A GAME OF DRONES**

* * *

**FACEBOOK/Panem616/photos/a.604938946292035.1073741869.535825266536737/608216832630913/**

THE GAME-MAKERS CUT - PART 2  
''G' IS FOR GAMEMAKER'

The doors to the Gamemakers room slide open and James, the High Gamemaker walks in.  
"Are we ready to commence?" he asks.  
Like he doesn't already know.

An excited cadet stands up to attention, ready with an open mouth to deliver a rapid-fire report in the intricate systems and opening mechanisms of the underground pistons of the arena, but James waves him down, having read his mind in less than a half-second, and walks over to where Hunter and Ryan are sitting, near the main display, deep in conversation.  
"Having fun?" James asks, a little mockingly.  
Hunter glares at him with accusing eyes, his Pathokinesis instantly quelling James' mood.  
"I think Ryan here is just about acquainted with 'how to be a GM'," he replies coolly.  
Ryan stands.  
"Yessir," Ryan stutters, "The arena is ready and raring to go."  
James stops and stares, raising an eyebrow at Hunter, like, 'sir?'  
Hunter mouths the word 'engineered' and James begins to smile.  
"Okay then," he says. "Let's go."

He raises a hand, and the room bursts into life, a blue-light sprinting around the walls suddenly as it fills the centre-piece with a holographic projection of one of the later parts of the arena.  
The three GMs stand and crowd round as the minor Gamemakers begin hurriedly assessing controllers, bringing the image into focus.  
[Depicted below].  
James motions to move on, and the scene changes, scrolling through various files to reach the Cornucopia layout.  
"Okay," James says. "How many Tributes online?"  
"All sir," Ryan says, "I insisted Peacekeeper Hand tag them all the moment they stepped onto the 'craft and set up the gas-chambers. All trackers are functioning perfectly, and each Tribute has been sprayed."  
James is impressed, though he knew the information already, and nods to affirm the training-GMs proficiency.  
"Guess we may as well get started then." he nods to all around him. "Who wants to do the voice?"  
Ryan looks confused. "Is Mr. Zola not commentating as usual, sir?"  
"No Ryan," James says, "that comes later. Right now it's just the countdown." He claps him on the back. "I'm sure you'll do fine." he says, and slumps onto a chair with his feet-up, Hunter quickly following suit.

Ryan stands up tall and motions for a diode to be pressed - a little over 1000 miles away, 24 platforms rise from underground into a darkened arena.  
Ryan motions a calming gesture to the GMs around him and reaches for his microphone.  
"50..." he says, mimicking a low Capitol-accent voice as best he can.  
"49...48...47..."

-

*BOOM*  
A cannon fires, not to symbolise a death, but the end of the countdown.  
"9 deaths" says James.  
"No way! 11, at least, surely." insists Hunter.  
"Please," says James. "Half the people who go to the Cornucopia are going to die at a maximum, so that's a maximum of 12, and then not everybody's going to the Cornucopia, and not everybody will kill someone, so you're 11 is way too high! Trust me, I'm Clairvoyant."  
"Oh yeah?!" says Hunter, "Clairvoyant through a screen, are you? Look at these sad people, they'll do anything to get home, in fact... look."  
He jabs at the screen as every single Tribute from the poidum rushes to the Cornucopia.  
"No way," says James breathlessly, grabbing flicking his hand to zoom in, "the greedy..."

Fighting begins at the Cornucopia. A huge scramble for weapons starts it off, the suddenly, 1-on-1 fights break out across the Cornucopia's plane; some Tributes run at their first encounter, but find another and begin to duel ruthlessly.

"Well I'm betting on the Girl from District 8 to win her fight," notes James before realising that every single Tribute has entered some kind of skirmish.  
Hunter smiles triumphantly.  
"I win," he says, grinning. "No way there's less than 12 deaths - pay up!" He subtly manipulates James' emotions into submission.  
James pulls away and stares at the screen blankly. "Don't count your Tributes before their dead Lanky-boy: some of these guys are having second thoughts."

The arena was rigged to blow, and as the floor begins vibrating, with 9 Tributes dead already, 2 of the fights quite suddenly cease and the Tributes become aware of the arena around them and flee through the glowing red door.  
Ryan fires off a cannon a strong 9 times, then another when a final battle concludes with a final cannon-fire, leaving a total of 10 deaths.  
"Oh." says both GMs.  
Ryan rushes over. "Done." he says. "What next?"

The floor explodes with a deafening bang on the hologram-screen, and then the GMs are talking again.  
"Okay, let's bring in the Drones," says Hunter.  
"Which ones?" offers Ryan. "Skynet have just informed us that we have purchased an extra 24 Drones for general usage.  
James frowns. "24? That seems unnecessary and expensive, half the Tributes are already dead!"  
Ryan shrugs. "If it's not those Drones you're looking for, you've still got the Drone tagged 'Cairo Iota-Sigma' which you can use..."  
James turns. "Not yet," he says. "that Drone stays in the arena until further notice. Heavensbee, you're in charge of controlling it."  
"Yessir." a minor Gamemaker squeaks up from his chair and hurriedly flees the room.  
"Okay." says James finally, "send in the Killer-Drones. All 3. And go and get Zola for the next stage."

Ryan heads into the Turbolift as Hunter and James crowd round the hologram.  
A single shining robot is formed in transparent-blue.

Zola walks into the room.  
"Sir, you've dissuaded me from my biological experiments..."  
Hunter interrupts. "Zola you know perfectly well that this arena-speech is part of your job-description, you really want to argue?"  
Zola moves quickly to the hologram display, biting his tongue and holds two remote controls, ready for use.

James suddenly stands up straight and leans over to Hunter's side. "Skynet is down."  
Hunter is shocked. "What? You just had one of your... visions?"  
"Yeah," James replies. "Right now Ryan is paging them with no response. An armed force-team cannot pass it's electro-barriers in the wreckage of District 13, and they've set up a mental-perimeter so I can't see into their actual minds."  
Hunter curses.  
"Okay, we'll deal with it later. What about Zola? He is an operative of Skynet, if they're all about to betray us..."  
James cuts him off. "Yes. Later. Okay, the Games now."

-

The hologram of Arnim Zola, Chief Science Officer projects down to the arena. He has had his hair redone and is wearing thick-lensed glasses. He speaks with a thick-Capitol accent.

"Welcome, remaining Tributes. I am Claudius Templesmith, and today I will be the CEO of the Capitol Industries, set in the ruins of the Marine Corps Logistic Base 'Barstow'.  
To all of you, I say, may the odds be ever in your favour."

-

To be Continued in 'NIGHT 1 - THE LESSER OF TWO EVILS'.  
Based Upon:  
The notion that the MCU Character 'Arnim Zola' and the HG Character 'Claudius Templesmith' are played by the same actor, 'Toby Jones'


	6. H is for Hunting

**67TH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES**

**A GAME OF DRONES**

* * *

**FACEBOOK/Panem616/photos/a.604938946292035.1073741869.535825266536737/616507941801802/**

THE GAME-MAKERS CUT – PART 3  
''H' IS FOR HUNTING'

Walking swiftly through the dimly-lit white corridors, James and Hunter stride quickly away from the GM control room, the former vigorously prodding a 3D-Hologram of a globe that seems to be emitted from his hand, and the latter scrolling through a virtual-document floating in the air in front of him.  
"Got a plan?" Hunter vaguely inquires.  
"Several," James replies," I considered eight plans and what I have now is the best one, even so, we have a sixty-four percent chance of success. The key is insider knowledge – and what do we know right now?"  
Hunter pulls up a record sheet on his virtual air-tablet.  
"Nothing," he says. "Skynet – the third-party national corporation specialising in Drone-Technology – has relinquished all communications with any Capitol facilities including the Hub and the Triskelion. Technology workers stationed at either of the two have mysteriously disappeared, we have reports of machinery malfunction throughout the Grid." A 'new-message' icon pops up on his screen. "Oh yeah, and Ryan now has pains in his arm. It's not looking too good."

James spins round. "Ryan?" He asks, then swears. "Okay, we need to go and see Ryan and then Rumlow."  
Now it's Hunter who grimaces – Brock Rumlow, Head Peacekeeper of Internal Affairs had spent the last year 'under President Snow's Orders' attempting to dig-up secrets of Hunter's past, those that Hunter had spent so long trying to bury and forget.  
"That son of a bitch?" he says. "What does he have to do with anything?"  
The two of them have turned now and are walking back towards a silvery lift that will take them back to the Gamemakers room.  
"Hunter, we need to know what's going on. I hate not knowing what's going on. And the only way we can do that is to launch an armed assault, and for that we need Rumlow.  
"But why him? He's only head of Internal Affairs, why not get Peacekeeper Hand or Wilson?"

They stop walking, reaching the lift and stand still as it slowly ascends.  
James lowers his voice and speaks softly and seriously.  
"Hunter, there is an organisation which, up to now, you have known nothing about. Out there in the Districts, the force of Peacekeepers set out to police the people of Panem, but in here, in the very top levels, the most senior, experienced and best Peacekeepers, those who's combat training or skills or IQ exceeds even the best in District 2 join an organisation. This organisation is basically equivalent to Panem's Secret Police or Secret Service, of which Rumlow leads, and it deals with anything it sees as a national threat.  
It is called the Protocol and Aptitude – National Espionage Missions Division-616, or for short, Panem-616."

Hunter laughs. "Surely it sure be Panemd-616? And why 616 anyway?"  
James looks at him, deadly serious. "They chose it because it is the number of the Beast. They are a squad of deadly, ruthlessly, intelligent and incredibly efficient super-soldiers. Smarter than the Hydra Science Division and stronger than the Peacekeepers Division, these guys are the best.  
And we need to borrow them."

They wait in silence for a little bit while the lift reaches the floor, the doors opening with a subtle 'ding'.  
"But firstly Ryan."

-

The Gamemakers room is dimly illuminated, yet it would still be bright and peaceful looking, were it not for every seat in the room vacated due to a mass-crowd of white-suited minor-Gamemakers crowded around Ryan Calder, lying and sweating it out on the floor as a few of them prodded him with medical instruments.  
Ryan is shaking, sweat visibly running down his overheating face and arms. His left hand opens and shuts uncontrollably.

James freezes and runs out of the room.

Hunter stares, a little shocked, and moves to part the crowd, coming over to Plutarch Heavensbee who appears to be leading the attempted diagnosis, taking Ryan's pulse over and over again with somewhat futile results.  
"What's going on?!" Hunter asks, and is quickly told of how the moment Templesmith/Zola's broadcast stopped, when James and Hunter were out of the room, Ryan was complaining of an itch, scratching his right shoulder, then began sweating profusely, swaying, vision distorted, then simply collapsed, clutching his left arm, shrieking and then Zola sprinted from the area, they had assumed to get help, but they had not heard from him since, and then Ryan was so terribly, ill.  
Hunter checks his pulse, then his left arm, attempting movement of the covered robotic metal, which causes Ryan to hiss in pain. Electrical shockwaves appear to be running down it.  
Okay, that's not good.  
He follows the current along, finding the source to be underneath the shoulder, where the bionic arm connects to Ryan's biological body, and, very, very, slowly, twists it, feeling for the switch underneath.  
A panel opens in the rough area of Ryan's triceps, revealing a small control panel. Ryan shouts out and spasms his whole body, jerking upwards. Immediately, Gamemakers rush forward to restrain him as Hunter continues his inspection, but what he finds does not reassure him.  
The circuitry of wires inside Ryan's arm is glowing red, not from heat however. They twist unimaginably, over several diodes and microcontrollers before returning to the silver 'Skynet' logo and illuminating that. And then, right where the power source should be, where the impulse feeders should link to Ryan's nervous system, a gaping black hole only exists, with the numbers '13' written below.  
But where is the power coming from? The wires seem to hook into Ryan's bloodstream, cutting into the Brachial Arteries and leaking blue into the otherwise red blood… with each pulse from Ryan's heart a mass of blood squirts out and then suddenly disappears, turning into steam, then solidifying and form electrical pulses that run over Ryan's arm and send a shock down to his hand and back to his whole body, causing him to jerk uncontrollably; and then he's shaking. Stupidly, unstoppably, no number of Gamemakers can restrain this, his blood runs out from his arm into the metal components to be eaten by the gears turning and the sparks of the wire, with each pulse of his shoulder…now Ryan's eyes are slowly turning white, and then red as water runs down his body, not just sweat but his body abruptly seems to be leaking water, it runs down from his open mouth, down his neck like a wave and covering his body in a shimmering layer of…  
James runs in. Diving through the crowd he jams a syringe into Ryan's shoulder and injects a dark purple liquid through a needle into the arteries and then Ryan is motionless. Peaceful. Breathing, slowly.

-

"Leave him to do the next announcement. He knows what to do. Let's go and see Rumlow."

They walk swiftly along the corridor to the 3rd Wing of the Triskelion, where Rumlow is waiting. He's a middle-aged tattoo-ed man wearing a combat jacket and uniform, holding a very, very large gun.  
"Hello High Gamemaker Howlett, Gamemaker Lancaster. I am Agent Rumlow of Panem-616, these are my second in commands, Agent Wilson and Agent Tellman, who I believe you already know."  
James and Hunter nod at the two men standing either side.  
"What Mr. Lancaster here has already briefed me upon is that you require a simple infiltration mission. Unfortunately what you have not yet realised is that we received intel a half-hour ago that all Skynet members have retreated to their Command Centre Base in the wreckage of what was once District 13."  
James rolls his eyes, he had known this for hours.  
"Thus you will require a small, specialised STRIKE team of 3 men to infiltrate past the Skynet defence perimeter and either talk to or force him to talk. As we will run the operation from here, that team will consist of yourselves and Agent Tellman."

There is a definite shock from Hunter and he stands up straight and folds his arms, looking Rumlow directly in the eyes.  
"Are you kidding? I've heard you guys have the strongest and most advanced personnel in Panem, and you want to risk the lives of the two most honoured Gamemakers in the Capitol? Why don't you send Agent Wilson here, or another of the elitist Peacekeepers?"  
Rumlow replies curtly. "Believe me, you two were not my first choice. But, from reading the Panem Data Index and recommendations from President Snow, it is apparent that the two of you have certain… gifts. Indeed, the lack of reaction from Mr. Howlett over here tells me that those gifts are employed by the two of you quite efficiently. You will lead the team, and you will not fail. In any case, I hear both of you past-exceeded the most advanced of our Combat Trainings and have more than enough experience in the field, especially you, Mr. Lancaster. I suggest you get going. District 13 is not the nicest of places."

James simply walks out, which is the signal for Hunter to do the same, and Julius quickly follows him.  
"I hate that guy." Hunter says.  
"He's not exactly the most pleasant." James says.  
"Please." says Julius. "You don't have to work for him."

Ryan slowly opens his eyelids. He had been sleeping, that's all. Leaning alone on the wall at the back of the Gamemakers room, fatigue had finally caught up with him for a second. Unsurprising considering he had been leaking his soul not 3 hours ago.  
Night is over, the sun casting a red glow outside. It was time to begin the next stage in the arena.  
He was in charge now.  
What were his instructions from the High Gamemaker? Bring Claudius Templesmith, a.k.a. Arnim Zola to the Hub for interrogation. Zola, a Skynet operative, perhaps the only one who hasn't fled. But no doubt a double agent.

Ryan shakes himself awake and stares.  
Templesmith is already at the front of the room, bathed in a blue light. He's speaking via hologram, to who? What time is it? All the Gamemakers are fiddling with their monitors? Has Day 2 started? Had he missed it? Ryan growls and steps forwards. How careless.  
Well there was a way to make this right.  
He walks swiftly over to Templesmith, hand reaching inside his jacket, and when right up close, noting how Templesmith was completely focused on the speech he was giving, he brings out a shining Colt Revolver and fires a tiny bullet into the man's spine, feeling nothing as he collpases.  
A 'Boom' echoes throughout the speakers.  
It was a sleeper-round; Templesmith would wake up in a few hours, by that time tied to chair in the Hub Interrogation Room, but Ryan wished he'd killed him. An inferior man, betraying the might of the Capitol. He deserved to die.

Taking a deep breath, he steps into the hologram light and begins to sleep.

The words flow freely from his mouth. Tributes. He hated them, the species, because they could grow up to become Victors. Anything with power to usurp the Capitol – repulsive. They should be wiped out every one of them. Now he was sending in the Anti-Drones to do the job. James had requested they be delayed, but James wasn't here. The Tributes were going to suffer this round.  
As he speaks he notices sweat beads running from his face, was it getting hot in here? Never mind, it was no doubt the effects of the hologram light, he scratches his left arm absent-mindedly and continues.  
Imagining dramatic music playing in the background of his words, he brings death with each phonic.  
Damn, a headache. At this time? Right when he's giving his speech? He focuses on one of the Tributes, a girl, staring at her Drone, and she shifts out of focus. He shakes his head to concentrate but the vision seems to be slipping.  
Oh.  
Okay.  
Ryan finishes his speech and steps out of the light, then sprints out of the room, leaving Zola's still body on the floor.

-

District 13.  
Hunter, James and Julius gaze up at a giant perimeter set up on an old bridge that once connected the cities, now lined with defensive artillery and torpedo-guns.  
Hovercrafts line the skies, leading towards the entrance gate of the barricaded Skynet Compound.  
Staying in the shadows, they advance cautiously.


	7. P is for Preparation

**67TH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES**

**A GAME OF DRONES**

* * *

**FACEBOOK/Panem616/photos/a.604938946292035.1073741869.535825266536737/623913644394565/**

THE GAME-MAKERS CUT – PART 4  
''P' IS FOR PREPARATION'

-THE TRISKELION, 0230 HOURS-

Three Peacekeepers – standing very still in combat positions in a rough-equilateral triangle, almost exactly in the centre of the Training Hall. They stand so very still, unblinking eyes observing the position of each other's guards, stances and posture. The lights are low, a pale-white floodlight seeking across the floor, leaving the faces of the three darkened.  
Three of them: Peacekeeper Hart, Peacekeeper Sosa and Peacekeeper Barton. Their first-name was lost the second they joined the force in District 2, according to the Panem Data Index, but out of duty and training, the three know each other, placing bets on Tributes, drinking in the District 9 tavern. But now, locked in combat, even without weapons and armour, their movements are lethal.  
Such is the way of the Peacekeepers.

The Training Session has commenced since 2200 the previous night; the exercise is weaponless brawling, but each Peacekeeper carries a ranged weapon, to simulate an actual combat situation. Stowing their bows and guns, they hold forward a guard, stance light, and observe each other's movements very slowly.

Peacekeeper Hart takes a slow step forward. Hart's expressionless face watches Barton and Sosa's.  
Basic battle strategy. Drilled in, in one of the 20 Training Halls of District 2's Barrack Compound. One hundred repetitions, three hours a day.  
Barton meets Hart's eyes. Barton slowly walks to the side, keeping in a rough circle so Hart is between Barton and Sosa.  
Sosa remains still.  
There's a slight pause as someone exhales, then Barton is running. Straight towards Hart, guard up protecting the eyes, straight up high, side-on. About a metre away, Barton leaps upwards, a fist flying towards Hart's face. Barton blocks it, grabbing the wrist and twisting it, but the punch from Barton turns into a feint, grabbing Hart's wrist in turn and pulling it down, aiming to throw Hart off balance before aiming a long sweeping kick at her ankles. Barton shifts the centre of gravity above his left foot over to Hart, pushing into Hart while using Hart's attempt to break out with a left-hand wrench to lock all their limbs together in a strong twist, while continually pushing forward Hart's knee in an endeavoured sweep.  
Sosa still watches, while moving slowly closer, guard up.  
Casually, as though turning the dial on a control panel, Barton puts more and more pressure on the joint in Hart's leg, locking Hart's arm off-balance. The knee begins to bend the wrong way, further and further down, Hart's face contorted in pain, though Barton shows no sign off stopping. Sosa steps away, Barton more viciously continues the onslaught on Hart, until suddenly Hart moves, leaning far to the right and twisting Hart's leg around Barton's sweeping one, quickly pushing backwards with a left arm upwards until abruptly Hart wrenches backwards and Barton is thrown over Hart's shoulder, spinning upwards and rolling over, releasing Hart and flying through the air.  
However, opposing the power from Hart's throw, Barton spins in mid-air and lands with both feet on the ground, facing towards Hart, body bent low, again fists raise.  
And at about that moment, Sosa breaks into a sprint and leaps upwards towards Hart, firing a bicycle kick upwards at a 45° angle into Hart's stomach, her body spinning, her right leg coming round in an arc and down at Hart's head. Hart turns just in time to see the foot incoming and Hart catches it just before it contacts into the stomach, the impact, however, drives her backwards, the power pushing her backwards away from the second incoming kick, Hart swerves and moves into the kick, firing punches into Sosa's side, as Sosa quickly brings up a guard to a protective X.  
Sosa pulls on both attacking arms and twists round to kick into Hart's stomach, but the kick quickly turns into leverage to jump and then Sosa is grappling over Hart's neck, legs wrapped round in a vicious choke and Sosa spins round, pulling weight downwards, forcing Hart to gag and collapse. Sosa stands straight up, just as Barton walks over and fires an uppercut into Sosa's floating ribs, causing Sosa to convulse and flip over to the ground.

"Over!" calls a voice from the corner of the room. Peacekeeper Victoria Hand emerges from the shadows, walking swiftly towards the trio, two of whom sit up, groaning. "Charissa, what was that? Where was your guard when you were attacking Alison? If the kick hadn't landed, who knows what kind of counter-attack you would have allowed upon yourself? And that spinning thing around her neck? What was that?"  
Charissa Sosa bows nervously. "Peacekeeper Tellman showed me that, Commander," she stutters. "It seemed quite… effective."  
Hand shakes her head. "Only unprepared people. Alison, you have two hands to guard, what was that, allowing your stomach free out of guard? Even under attack, be aware of your possible target areas at all times and keep your guard under control! Alison!"  
Alison Hart nods her head sullenly.  
Hand finally turns to Clint Barton, standing arrogantly over his fellow Peacekeepers. "Barton congratulations, you were victorious."  
Clint smirks. "Why thank you, Commander Hand.  
Of course Peacekeepers Hart and Sosa will always outlive me in a fight, I mean, since they can both bleed for a week and not die."

Peacekeeper Hand steps back as Charissa snarls amd whips her hair round, springing to her feet, bent over facing Clint, hand touching the floor as though about to charge.  
Clint laughs and looks over to Hand who simply says "Round 2."  
And then Clint is shocked as Charissa is charging towards him and she dives over halfway, her arms supporting her weight as she spins into a wheel, then lands rolling, comes up straight, hair flying out to blond him, then she jumps and flips round, her legs flying up behind her, over her head and striking Clint on the nose.  
He falls, face bloodied.  
Sosa turns to Hart, guard raised.  
Hart swallows. "Commander, why are we even training now anyway?" she says nervously as Sosa exhales deeply, her rage ready to fight: "Don't we have to interrogate that Skynet traitor Zola in, like, 10 minutes? How is last-minute training going to help? And Zola's not exactly going to attack us anyway.

Hand glances at Sosa, who still stands tense and ready to attack. They share a look before Hand answers – "You know what, Alison? You never truly know whether or not someone's dangerous. There's some advice that might just save your life."  
Clint groggily moans and Hart walks over and slaps him in the face, jerking him awake. "Come on you." She says, dragging him up to a standing position. "You ready to fight?"  
"Always?" he replies, and she plants a kiss on his nose before stepping back.

And then Sosa is running towards Hart and lashing out with a grab that turns into a choke as Hart leans out the way, blocking upward with her left hand before locking the risk and pushing down with the right hand at the elbow and twisting, forcing Sosa to flip over: as she lands she slips her foot inwards, between inwards her legs, and Hart off-balance, before hooking her leg round her knee and pulling to sweep, forcing Hart to release the hold, jump and stamp down, while firing an elbow towards Sosa's chin which she takes with a rage then slams her head forward back at Hart's nose while still twisting her knee, and Clint chooses that moment to carefully land a blow at Sosa's shoulder, rocking her out of a controlled stance; that punch becoming a grab and Barton pulls in and kicks to the floating ribs which Sosa catches and scoops round, giving Hart the opportunity to punch down to the solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him and as he falls away, spinning through the air, yet twisting round to stabilize himself, moving low and diving back in, shoulder up high, not only as a warding system, but also as a distraction for an inward step followed by a small kick to the back of the knee, which is replied to by a jump over the incoming leg and a strike down to the back of the neck, the door to the Training Hall opens, startling not only the three fighters, but Peacekeeper Hand as well.

CONTINUED IN 'I' IS FOR INTERROGATION


	8. I is for Interrogation

**67TH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES**

**A GAME OF DRONES**

* * *

**FACEBOOK/Panem616/photos/a.604938946292035.1073741869.535825266536737/624365511016045/**

THE GAME-MAKERS CUT – PART 5  
''I' IS FOR INTERROGATION'

[Please read "P' IS FOR PREPARATION' first]

-THE TRISKELION, 0400 HOURS-

Ryan gives the announcement over the speaker in the Gamemaker Room, barely stuttering out the words – as he steps away, he's sweating, itching, and has a headache. Hands shaking, Ryan walks over to the GMs desk, where Plutarch Heavensbee is controlling a blue, holographic representation of the army bunker, and pulls open a drawer, withdrawing a cuboid black box.  
He spills out 4 white tablets into his palm, each marked with 'M' for 'Morphling' and swallows them quickly, eyes rolling back in relief, muscles relaxing. He glances at the projection – this stage in the arena requires little Gamemaker attention. And he has an appointment to keep – he begins to walk out of the door.  
Firstly he walks to 3rd Wing of the Triskelion, dressed in combat uniform. Passing security – he set off the metal detectors – he quickly encounters two men wearing dark jackets and holding heavy sub-machine pistols. He nods to them.  
"Agent Anderson, Agent Triplett."  
Antoine Triplett, Level 7 operative of Panem-616, lifts his sunglasses, his strong southern Capitol accent pronounced with each phonic.  
"Agent Calder. How goes the lowlife of Level 3?"  
Ryan smiles. "It's good. Only enlisted like a week ago, that must be some kind of record, right?"  
Agent Triplett looks as though he is about to reply, but a buzzer rings out, and a female voice over the intercom calls out "T-minus 30" and suddenly all 3 agents are moving together as a unit – unidentifiable from each other among the shadows. They arrive at the centre of the complex and pick up a Ruger Mark II for Ryan before proceeding.  
They stop at a room marked 'First Training Hall."

Ryan silently pushes open the door and the three of them slip in, arms loosely supported at their sides, hands casually resting in a position ready to draw their weapons.  
There are four Peacekeepers inside, one of whom carries (coincidentally) a Peacekeeper gun, two, a male and female (holding hands), with quivers and bows strapped to their backs, and the final, a tall woman standing in the corner, apparently unarmed. They look nervous, gripping their weapons tightly, quickly regarding the men in suits who have just walked in.  
Ryan lifts his weapon. "Hi there!"  
Agent Anderson steps forward and speaks in his deep voice.  
"These are Agents Calder and Triplett of Panem-616, of whose existence your knowledge is limited. The interrogation scheduled for 0600 today of Senior Science Officer Arnim Zola, also known as Commander of Ceremonies Claudius Templesmith, about the operations of the technology company Skynet is no longer under jurisdiction of the Peackeeper Force. Panem-616 will be taking over this enterprise, permanently. The case will be led by Agent Calder here, the Peacekeepers are too have no further role."  
Agent Triplett too steps forward and lifts his M27 Infantry Rifle.  
"Are there any protests?"

Peacekeepers Barton and Sosa glance towards Peacekeeper Hand, waiting for her lead. She fixes an icy stare at Agent Anderson.  
"The operation was given to the Peackeepers," she says coldly, "What right do you have…"  
"We understand that." Agent Triplett interrupts. "What you may not know however, is that these orders come directly from himself, the honourable President Snow, delivered to Agent Rumlow, our very own Head of Internal Affairs, and signed for by Agent Tellman, who I believe y'all know. So I'm reckoning that whatever duties you may have to the state or the force here is overruled, and I say again, do we have any protests?"  
Subtly, almost invisibly, Ryan and Agent Anderson have lifted their handguns in a combat-ready position.  
Will (Peacekeeper Barton) draws an arrow, not aiming at anybody, but simply notching it prepared. Alison (Peacekeeper Hand), does the same, eyes flitting between the blank Agents faces.  
Ryan notices this. "Really?" he says, and simply flicks off his safety. "You want this?"

There's a pause.

"Stand down," says Peacekeeper Hand. The three of them lower their weapons and walk slowly towards the Agents, who don't move, and brush past them, exiting through the door and turning right.

Ryan sighs in relief.  
Stowing their now-safe weapons, they turn and jog out to the left, coat-tails flying behind them. Passing the Gamemakers Room and the Weapons Hold, they turn a corner and head down a flight of stairs near the Panem-616 wing. Past the holding cells Ryan remembers only too well and through several lines of security until arriving at an almost-invisible door.  
A black-suited Agent is waiting there. Level-8, Agent Ethan Hunt, carrying an UZI Sub-Machine Gun.  
"You're early." he says. He pushes open the door.

-

Agents Triplett and Anderson wait outside – Ryan and Agent Hunt step in.  
The room is lightened with blue hexagons, the walls and floors identical. A single, metallic table lies in the centre of the room, fairly small, yet filling the width of the room. Zola or Templesmith, whichever, sits on an uncomfortable chair tucked into the table, handcuffed onto both the table and chair legs, apparently sleeping. His wild-blue hair bobbing up and down in rhythm with his snores.

Ryan steps forward slowly, circumventing the table until arriving close by to Zola, lifting his Ruger in case of any sudden movements.  
Drawing out his right arm, he projects a holographic screen (Product of Skynet Corp.) from his wrist into the air and scans the sleeping figure's face, which registers his appearance, bone structure, eye pattern, age and DNA in less than 10 seconds.  
Zola's Panem Data Index file loads up, confirming his identity.  
Ryan scrolls through noting to Agent Hunt Zola's different qualities, picking out in particular his 'high intelligence' and 'coercive persuasion'.

Two-faced bastard.  
Working for Skynet, no doubt providing technological resources taken right from the stocks of the Capitol's HYDRA Science Division.  
And now... with the crimes Skynet has committed...

Ryan slams a fist on the table, jolting Claudius Templesmith awake.  
"Hello," he says, mocking Templesmith's overly strong Capitol accent. "Welcome to your interrogation."  
Templesmith swallows.  
"Agent Hunt," he nods, "Agent Calder." Then very quickly: "Agent Calder, are you going to kill me?"

Ryan shakes his head quickly, giving the impression of anxiousness. "No, Mr. Zola. We just want to ask you a few questions, that's all."  
"You would do very well to answer them," adds in Agent Hunt.

Ryan takes a step back, leaning on the table with both hands, reading off the blue-screen projection.  
Agent Hunt holds his rifle in an offensive position across his chest, fingers drumming on the barrel, looking for all the world, bored.

"You are a part of Skynet..." says Ryan.  
"Though you swore fealty to the Capitol and HYDRA..." growls Agent Hunt.  
"...and at 1814 hours on the 5th of July, Skynet stopped being so friendly with us..." continues Ryan.  
"...but all this time you were against us..." again, interrupts Agent Hunt  
"...we reviewed the logs; you have smuggled more than 90 tonnes of electronic equipment..."  
"...guns, artillery, detonators, caterpillar wheels, stuff I'd like to smash your face in with..."  
"...enough to build a hundred Jericho missiles, an army of hovercrafts..."  
"...I get mad when people steal my stuff..."  
"...as well as feed backing intelligence on our own military divisions..."  
"...you're a goddamn traitor, Claudius..."  
"...including specs on our latest technological endeavours and accomplishments..."  
"...go burn in hell."  
Ryan looks up from the virtual screen, straight into Templesmith's unblinking eyes.  
"Do you deny the charges?"

Claudius Templesmith's watches the dialogue with a strange, empty, silent expression.  
He tries to fold his arms and his handcuffs rattle.  
"No," he says, "I don't."

Ethan (Agent Hunt) walks over to the table, blank-faced, right to Templesmith, meets his gaze, then draws his fist back and slugs him right across the jaw.  
There's a crack and Templesmith is thrown from the chair, though still very much attached to the table from his handcuffs. He writhes on the floor and groans; Agent Hunt grabs him by the lapels and hauls him back up.  
"YOU'RE A GODDAMN TRAITOR" he yells at Templesmith, his face only a few inches away from the captive, each syllable dotting in his face.  
"YOU'RE A DISGRACE TO YOUR COUNTRY."

"Ethan..." Ryan mutters, and Agent Hunt let's go and backs away; Ryan resumes talking.  
"Claudius just tell us: what is Skynet?"  
"You know all about Skynet," Claudius replies very quickly. "You weren't exactly fooled into employing our services, you know what the company is."  
Ryan raps the table impatiently. ,"I want to hear it from an operative's point of view."  
And now Templesmith sits back and smiles.  
"Skynet is... everything. Together, with over a thousand operatives, in a single organisation, Skynet rules the country. With the most advanced military force in Panem, and the most intelligent academics advancing out Scientific movements... We own the country. Ruling from the heavens, holding Panem like a globe in the palm, or a net a large as the sky... We are unbeatable. Too late to try and resist, you are already caught in the trap."

Ryan takes a step away. "That's... lovely. But why pretend then, if you have it all, why send operatives into the HYDRA Division, or place in lower-ranked operatives in the Peacekeepers?"

"Money.  
There is so little of it, yet the Capitol has so much. If was so, so, so, easy to take so much, and you didn't even know. We have amassed a fortune over the years of our... partnership. We reached the last milestone on the 5th of July. Now who has, as you say, all the missiles and guns. Who's in control?"

Agent Hunt strides over, causing Templesmith to shrink backwards, and Hunt yells out: "What's Skynet's next move? What are they planning?"  
Templesmith laughs nervously.  
"If you think I'm going to tell you that, then..."  
he says, but nothing more, because Agent Hunt has grabbed his tongue from his open mouth and is holding it very tightly between his thumb and forefinger.  
"I will," he says, "rip your tongue out of your dainty little throat, right now, if you don't give me answers that I like. IS THAT CLEAR?"  
Templesmith nods, and Hunt let's go, leaving a clear bruise on his tongue. Templesmith talks fast.  
"The time for Presidents and Senates of State is over, Panem is already optimised in labour, it needs a military government to lead it. No right of birth like your precious Snow, no elections, no Hunger Games. If you ate the strongest fighter you rule - if you rebel you die, if you are weak, you die.  
We will continue to keep to the shadows for a few months, maybe a year, then strike hen you are least expecting it, wiping out every last Capitol member, and invoking the age of The Net."

Agent Hunt barks laughter.  
"Keep to the shadows did you say?" he flips through Ryan's screen.  
"at 0400 hours on the morning of the 6th of July, a Jericho missile was launched from District 3's Skynet compound over the city, into The Spine mountains, where it detonated harmlessly. Peacekeepers besieged it from 0842 to 0913 upon which time they breached the outer compound and the base imploded, destroying the facility and killing every Skynet member inside.  
Likewise for every Skynet bases in the various Districts - destroyed at various points in the day. 2 Peacekeepers injured, none killed, no citizens harmed. Claudius, you have been sadly misinformed, there is no more Skynet out there, you have one remaining base in District 13, I see no revolution coming."

Templesmith smiles. "District 13, Skynet Headquarters, OPTIMUS MAXIMUS, the greatest and the best. We will destroy you from there. Count on it."

Agent Hunt turns his back and waves a hand dismissively. "The Peacekeepers will take it within the fortnight, no fear."

Templesmith flinches at the words and makes a visible effort to stand, slamming down on the table. Ryan loads and aims his handgun in exactly three-tenths of a second, but Templesmith apparently doesn't care. "You think you can trust your Peacekeepers? Oh, they're so brave, so loyal, so strong. They will fall, they will crumble. They will destroy themselves!"

Ryan laughs. "Every Peacekeeper with allegiance to Skynet had been accounted for and each individually fled. Panem-616 took the liberty of hunting each one down. They are no more."

Agent Hunt rummages around in his jacket. "Anyway now, Claudius, I think the question of the day is... Why are you here? Every Skynet operative fled, you knew this was going to happen, so why stay?"

Templesmith sits back. "I have some... yet unfinished business, but let me answer your question with one of my own, tell me: how do you know that every Skynet-loyal operative has fled? Did you... ask everybody who is left what side they're on? Did you, perhaps, check the Panem Data Index? Hm?"

Ryan and Agent Hunt glance at each other.  
"Every Peacekeeper, and every operative in every division - tech, military, internal, external affairs, homeland security, the cabinet, medicine - who worked for, or in the past worked for, Skynet, has fled."

Templesmith is triumphant. "And you think those are the only people loyal to us? We Skynet operatives whisper, throughout your precious system, into the thoughts of other men, particularly your 'loyal' peacekeepers. There are so many here who will fight against you, so many, ready to leap from out of the shadows."

-

Ryan takes the keys from Agent Hunt. Walking slowly over to Templesmith, he unlocks his handcuffs, who protests nervously, confidence quickly expiring at this latest development.  
Ryan opens the door.  
"There are peacekeepers out there," he says, "treacherous ones according to you. Why don't you go meet with them? Just overpower us and you're free, can't you do it?"  
Templesmith licks his lips. "You would... execute me?"  
Ryan shakes his head. "Never know until you try, right?"  
Templesmith steps to the side, round the desk, slowly.  
"But what about...?"

And then he leaps forward, a huge sudden movement, fist flying out in front of him, going directly to Ryan's face. Ryan leans back, stepping to side-on, catching the arm with both of his and twisting, wrenching the forearm against the elbow, throwing off Claudius, who twists, righting himself, slipping his arm out of the lock, he dives low and fires several punches up into Ryan's floating ribs. Ryan staggers back and coughs, bringing his arms down to protect him, he lashes out to Claudius' head which turns out to be a feint for a grab to his shoulder and Ryan pulls, stepping his left leg forward, and swinging his right knee upwards into Claudius' stomach. Claudius blocks the first, though the impact makes him feel like screaming and he grabs Ryan's arm, trying to pull it in, then the second knee slams in and the world tilts, Claudius is thrown backwards and, bent over, he coughs and wrenches in pain, slamming against the wall. Ryan leaps forward and fires a strongly-aimed punch which slams right into the bridge of Claudius Templesmith's nose, which rocks his head back, followed by a backward elbow to his cheekbone, which splinters with a dull *crack*.  
Claudius screams and goes down, then suddenly wraps his arms around Ryan's legs before Ryan can kick out and tackles him, slamming him to the ground, and he punches forward, catching Ryan on the joint of the humerus and the shoulder blade. Ryan winces in annoyance and thrusts his fingers into Claudius' solar plexus, causing the writhing figure to go still for a split second, ample time for Ryan to sink an uppercut into Claudius' jaw.

Claudius hits the ground like a tree.  
Ryan stands up, dusting off himself.  
Agent Hunt regards the blood streaming down Templesmith's face.  
"And I thought I was playing bad-cop." he says.  
Ryan looks up. "What?" he says, "He's still got his tongue hasn't he?"

They move to leave the room, but Templesmith manages to wheeze out some words before losing consciousness:  
"Out of the shadows..."

-

100 Peackeepers march through the parade ground, all masked, wearing the white body-armour simulating combat in the Districts.  
Suddenly the cool female voice over the intercom speaks.  
"The net traps the heavens, bring them down." she says.  
50 Peacekeepers stop - the announcement is highly unorthodox, what could it mean?  
The other 50, in the space of half a second, bring their guns up, flick off the safety and fire at the man in from of them, killing them instantly, halving the number of living people in the room.  
"Bring the sky down!" someone yells, and a mass cheer goes up.

Stepping over the body in white that he just shot, a peacekeeper pulls off his mask.  
"So," says Peacekeeper Clint Barton, "Who's next?"

-

TO BE CONTINUED IN ''F' IS FOR FIGHT'


	9. S is for Strike

**67TH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES**

**A GAME OF DRONES**

* * *

**FACEBOOK/Panem616/photos/pb.535825266536737.-2207520000.1414796378./679948908791038/**

THE GAME-MAKERS CUT – PART 6

''S' IS FOR STRIKE'

28 HOURS AFTER THE INTERROGATION OF CLAUDIUS TEMPLESMITH

The world is in Darkness.  
Or everything he can see anywhere.  
Bleeding, burnt, struggling, his left arm torn and sending out sparks every time he moved it.  
His hair, still black, but streaked with a white line.  
He grips the remains of an overturned table and hoists himself up, ignoring the groans his synthetic body makes in protest. The lights above, flicker once briefly, then flash out, just as the others in the entire building had given up long ago.  
But he's standing now. He walks slowly towards the control panel, untouched from when the other Gamemakers had fled. It still glows a dim blue, the last remnants of power remaining. Well, this will only take a second.  
Completely in control, he scrolls through the screen, virtual designs and circuits flash by.  
Selecting the file for Drone Chi Rho Iota Sigma and moves the sliders to 'Overload', the red section, whilst setting the Protocol to 'red-alert'.  
"No more," he simply says. "We must have… order."

Almost 32 hours previously…

-DISTRICT 13, 0012 HOURS-

Julius walks back from… relieving himself; Hunter is sitting round a small fire under the overhanging bridge, stoking it somewhat nonchalantly.  
"Hey," he says. Julius nods in admission and sits down, the two of them sitting in silence for a short while before Hunter continues, "So, um… Panem-616?"  
Julius sighs – being in a secret service meant keeping secrets, even from friends, and when those friends inevitably found out, they tended to react… counter-passively.  
"Yeah," he replies, a little frustrated. "Yeah, I didn't have a choice, I'm sorry. Some secrets have to stay until they're authorized to be given."  
Shaking his head and laughing, Hunter taps his wrist, causing a shimmering blue image to light up from his wrist-computer, portraying the Triskelion. He pinches his fingers to zoom in on the Third Wing, where the Panem-616 headquarters and he spins it around playfully.  
"So what's it like working there?" he says.  
Julius shrugs. "Like the Peacekeepers but better, I guess. We get all the cool weapons and gadgets, plus we don't have to deal with the dirt of the Districts."  
Hunter scrolls through the holographic screen, coming to rest on the grand entrance door to the Panem-616 division, which swings open in a virtual kind of way, revealing a vast complex in an odd mix of dark and pattern-filled walls and floors, but shiny-white computers and desks. The absence of people in the computerized construction is notable; Hunter probably would have noticed it had he seen the room before, something which his clearance had forbidden.

Displayed proudly on the wall: a broad bronze eagle, strangely displaced in color on the holographic projection, the only thing that is so, it is clearly the symbol of Panem-616.  
The resemblance to the symbol of the Capitol is striking – an eagle encompassed by arcing feathers is clearly a running theme, yet the design of the bird itself seems quainter, though grander, and it sits on a brownish-grey circle which seems almost like a medallion.  
( ?fbid=630983733687556&set=a.612270335558896.1073741874.535825266536737)  
Julius notices Hunter's caught attention and smiles proudly.  
"Yeah, it's beautiful isn't it?" he says. "The original seal of the Capitol, first established by President Nicholas Snow on July 4th, 21 years A.D.R. (after District Revolt), what was then called 1960. It was removed from commercial use by our President Snow – President Coriolanus Snow – in 25 A.D.R., right after the Cuban Missile Crisis, then reinstated by President Ellis on April 23rd, 49 A.D.R., but changed back upon his assassination. Of course, that section of Panem's history doesn't officially exist, and if you recall me telling you that, then you would firstly be wrong and secondly be dead, but I think the seal is nice to look at, don't you?"  
Hunter nods, somewhat stunned, before Julius continues.  
"Anyway, the new Capitol seal replaced that but Panem-616, for historical reasons, was allowed to retain the old seal. See the insignia-style gray perimeter? That represents duty. And a circle, of course that Panem-616 will withstand, it has no weaknesses, no imperfections on any side and it is almost, protected by the feathering around it.  
Inside the eagle is lightened at the top to represent the direction and motive we have – every mission we have had since Panem-616's founding has been successful."

Hunter laughs. "Are you trying to recruit me?"  
Julius gives him a long, hard stare. "Aren't you already on a mission for us?"

They sit in silence for a little while.

"Not a failed mission, ever?" Hunter suddenly blurts out.  
Julius shakes his head. "Never. Let's not start now. So, where is James?"

"Scouting." says Hunter.

James moves quickly across the ground, his path masked by the overhanging shadows from the bridge, holding a black .300 Winchester Magnum tactical assault rifle to his chest, a small Vektor CP1 holstered on his hip. Lightly sprinting to cover behind the metallic pier supporting the bridge, just as a shining blue hovercraft soars over the sky, stopping short suddenly, then reversing quickly in James' direction, a vast white spotlight illuminating the railings of the bridge down to the tall black gates of the stronghold.

10.4 miles away from the encampment with Julius and Hunter.  
200 metres behind enemy lines.

The wall had been almost impassible.  
James had stayed very still for several minutes, body tense, eyes moving slowly, watching carefully the positions of auto-drones, which were mounted in small turrets on the wall, bearing down at a somewhat random movement. 5 huge, sweeping broadlights illuminated the grounds in front of the wall, their paths intricate arcs heading towards James, stopping suddenly, then turning and spinning to come together at an intersection about 10 metres away from the wall where they rested for a second, before retreating back a few paces then surrounding the relevant ground. They passed over all the earth in front of the wall, unexceptionally.  
James had simply stared. A quick calculation on the paths of the lights, then he had simply stepped forward. Into the intersection point of the 5 spotlights. Just as they had retreated back toward the wall. Suddenly in darkness, James had stayed very still for exactly 7 seconds before darting to the right, diving under a light-beam and pressing his back against the wall. A turret, mounted on a hovercraft, had soared overhead, and then James had slipped through the gate.

Inside – an utter nothingness. The ruins of a once-massive city stretching from where broken buildings rise up in the distance, over to the dust in front of James' feet. A bright line shines in the distance from the rising sun.  
And there's where James waits.  
Back now to the inside of The Wall, in front of the orange haze of sunrise, approaching a ruined city.  
Behind Enemy Lines.

Pulling down his visor for his helmet, James hefts his gun.  
A small hovercraft with spinning blades appears at the top left of James' vision. Marked with the red triangle of Skynet.  
Their base – just ahead, in the ruined city.  
In front of where James stands now (picture).  
James loads his .22 barrel and walks slowly forward.

Hunter and Julius sit around a long-smoked out fire.  
Hunter pokes some logs with a stick. Julius stares across at the bridge stretching off into the distance. There's a shadowy silence that stretches between them. Hunter speaks without looking at Julius:  
"It's been 20 minutes…"  
"Wait."  
And then they wait.  
"20 minutes since James said his latest-possible time back would be…"  
"I said wait!"  
Julius growls noncommitally.  
Hunter waits.

"So," he says, bored. Julius looks up. "Who runs the operation here?" says Hunter.  
Julius checks through his wrist-computer notes.  
"Well we're infiltrating the Skynet base here, which should be just underground of the ruined District 13 city. Director Rumlow has told us to either capture or kill the Skynet leader, who's called Andrew Pierce, I think. James is just going to find how to get into the base before we head in.. And that's when the field mission begins."  
"And do you go on many field missions, Peacekeeper Tellman?"  
"Agent." Julius replies. "And yes. 8 missions in the last 12 months. All successful, of course." He looks curiously at Hunter.  
Hunter gives him a sarcastic look of bewilderment.  
"And is it on many missions, Agent Tellman," he says, stressing the long 'A' in 'Agent', "that your comrades walk into a trap and then you're left to die horribly, miles away from any support?"  
Julius groans and shifts from his spot on the ground.  
"Gamemaker Lancaster, aren't you and Gamemaker Howlett supposedly endowed with some special powers?" he says. "Isn't that why you were picked for this extremely covert operation over other agents of Panem-616 who are fore more qualified and experienced then the two of you? Aren't those powers supposed to be proof you two can look after yourself?"  
Hunter looks down.  
"Well yes. But James is 3 hours and 25 minutes late to meeting us here, and he is the one who can use his powers."  
Julius stands, concerned.  
"What do you mean?" he says half-heartedly, eyes scanning the ruinous area around them.  
Hunter is still still, watching the changing flames in front of him.  
"Well, it's just that he actually can do stuff, you know? He told me once that he got caught in the Decontamination Period of District 5's Central Power Plant's Radioactive Reactor Chamber, and that's how he can do all that, 'I know everyone is doing' crap. But me? What I do is just thinking. Mental stuff. Reading body-language, movement, projecting my own. And that kind of only works when James is weakening the defenses of everyone with his mind probe stuff. If at all. So right now, the fact that James could have been killed by these people and we're sitting right in the middle of enemy territory, waiting for them to come to us, so excuse me for being a little…"  
"Shhh." says Julius suddenly, lifting a finger and crouching slightly behind a ruined half-wall. Looking up, annoyed Hunter glares at Julius. "What?" he calls confusedly. "Shhh." Julius repeats, and slowly draws his gun. Hunter creeps up and draws his own StG 44 Rifle, activating his wrist computer to attempt to scout the area.  
"What is it?" He calls.  
"Movement." Julius replies. "At least 3, round the skirts of the far wall, moving very slowly."  
"Okay." says Hunter. He aims his rifle. "When?"  
"3," says Julius.  
"2"  
"1"  
Hunter's wrist-computer buzzes into life suddenly, emitting a single, high-pitched buzz.  
A text.  
Hunter scrolls it open.  
"Who?" says Julius, watching carefully the suddenly retreating line of shadows.  
"James" says Hunter.  
"What?" says Julius.  
Hunter reads through the message.  
"Oh shit!" he curses. "listen: 'They know you're there. They're coming, quickly and in huge numbers. Draw them away, then come and cover me. I'm in a little bit of trouble. ~James"  
"Well then," says Julius, and raises his own FN F2000. "Let's go find some bad guys!"  
And he lifts and fires.

To start with, obviously, James didn't think he was going to late.  
And then, when the hovercrafts began surrounding him at every angle, he thought he'd be a little bit late.  
Maybe.  
He thought he could just about make it.  
And then, when he was crouching behind the shadows of ruined buildings, stopping missiles in mid-air before they hit him and turning them back, he thought he'd be quite a bit late.  
Excusably late. Nothing he couldn't apologize for.  
And then, finally, when he was dodging spreads of bullets and firing back his own rounds at the hordes of foot-soldiers, he knew he'd miss his deadline.  
Damn.

It had started, he reckons as he leaps up and fires a great discharge of bullets down towards the reloading troops, when he had been walking towards the ruined city, the promised base of Skynet, where his 'mission' was promised to lie. The first thing he'd noticed, ducking to the right, using the remains of housing for cover from the above-flying hovercrafts, had been that his wrist computer was flashing at him. Attempting to activate it with his left hand - an insanely difficult feat considering the device was on the same wrist – a blue light had emitted from the screen, where the image projection would normally have been, and a flash was broadcasted in all directions, over his covering wall. Attempting promptly to shield it, James peeked nervously over at his surroundings, what had then been the center of the ruined neighborhood, to find that the sudden appearance of the lights had triggered more than one sense-pads that had been stationed around at adjacent buildings. Then there had been a low buzzing, the ground had started to vibrate slightly, as several traps and mechanical doors opened underneath his feet close by, releasing several small, tiny, metallic balls that emitted hums from several directions, and flitted around his head.  
The silvery balls probed slowly towards James in his hiding place. At least 5 of them, moving towards him, twisting with a small black eye imprinted in the middle of their surface. He cursed. From his hiding place, crouching behind that piece of wall, he put a slow finger to the side of his head and shut his eyes. The nearest silver orb, which had seemed to be scouting the area tentatively, suddenly twisted in mid-air, James flicked his hand and the orb went boomeranging off and crashed into another one, which immediately armed itself, contracting mechanically as dual-mounted firearms, marked with the red triangle of Skynet, hung down in synchrony from the belly of each orb, aiming wildly off as the orb attempted to steady itself. And then James leapt up, pushing with both feet off the ground, then another, from that section of wall he had been crouching behind, until he was 7 feet in the air, and having twisted round in one smooth movement, James opened fire from his Assault Rifle, bullets slammed into the 2 colliding orbs on the first hit, causing them to spark miserably and fall to the ground; James spins as the magazine lets out a continuous stream and his rounds strike perfectly the other Scouts, putting them permanently out of action.  
James wondered briefly whether he'd been spotted through the cameras of the sphere-drones, but he had moved swiftly ducking down through the town, carefully avoiding the other sense-pads until he arrived at the central-monument, a statue, half-broken atom, mounted on a pedestal. 92 stone-and-metal globules around a burnt-red nucleus. James veered off the street running towards the monument and ducked into a broken building, pressing his back to the wall, breathing heavily. Fighting off a migraine – the result of using his powers – James gritted his teeth and brought out his wrist-computer, which amazingly, had been still flashing with a holographic blue light. He shook it, frowning slightly as it spurted sparks in his face, then let out an extremely high-pitched scream. James jumped in surprise then desperately and rapidly pressed buttons from the sides, leaving it shrieking for about 5 seconds before once again silence fell over the center-of-town. And then, James, cursing his luck and his machinery, stood and tapped the screen, and a shining blue arrow projected itself from the scanner of the wrist-computer, spinning somewhat randomly before the whole device started bleeping loudly. The radar – James had managed to activate it – the malfunctioning screaming had occurred when he had attempted to use the communicators, but the radar, while the direction-locator seemed to have failed, the proximity sensor was working fine. James left his hiding place and walked slowly towards the atom-figure in the center and the beeping increased in volume and intensity.

What was he searching for? Walking, head-down, staring at the blue-screen, footsteps slow, the high-pitched, somewhat regular bleeping increased exponentially as he arrived past the atom-monument. Inside the sensor was a Geiger Counter. Next to the Geiger counter was a GPS Unit. Next to the GPS Unit was a Thermal Imaging Sensor. Next to the Thermal Imaging Sensor was a Nuclear Battery. Next to the Nuclear Battery was a buzzer that was going crazy, beeping so often and loudly that it almost appeared to be a continuous drone. James wanders around the square, ignoring the ruins of the buildings around him as the buzzing increased in pitch until finally; he stopped next to a manhole, covered by black-circular grate, marked with a single '13' in the center. And what really caught his eye, more than the incessant signals of a watch-computer, more than his clairvoyance abilities which ceased to function with no other humans in the vicinity, more than any leading Skynet symbols, was the simple fact that the manhole cover was clean. Every other single object in the square was covered in dust from the ruined buildings, but shiny as the wiring on Ryan's arm, this manhole cover appeared to be well-kept. James hoisted it open and peered inside, keeping his Assault Rifle trained down the hole, he watched carefully for movement. Sensing none, seeing nothing in the deep darkness, he hefted the gun in his left arm before bringing a small torch from his belt and shining it down.  
The duct had a single, metal ladder running down the side of it, by the looks of it, well-in service and marked with the red-triangle of Skynet, James wasn't going to head down it just yet. It was possible, that simply that was the entrance to the base that had be tasked to infiltrate, that that was where there mission lay. James stood up, still hunched over and replaced the cover, brushing himself off and turned, ready to begin the walk back to tell Hunter and Julius the news.  
And then he froze.  
A single, lone drone, humanoid in appearance, yet apparently only an exo-skeleton of circuits and metal, wandered right into him – its eyes blinking red, its hands clenched in a metallic grip, sparking and snarling from its worn mouth. He could see right through it – parts of its body had fallen away, any clothes it might have been wearing had long-since worn, and it staggered, as though even its synthetic and horribly broken state, it could feel pain.  
James swore. It must have been a land-scout drone from Skynet, one of many, happening to stumble across him, and whilst not armed, quite possibly dangerous.  
Those thoughts then – less than a second, the drone was right on top of him, and suddenly it swung its arm in a wide arc, long fingers sharpened like knives swinging directly towards its neck. James dropped like heck, raising his arm up for protection, he just cleared the wide swing as it whistled over his head, by the outstretched fingers scraped along his forearm giving 4 long cuts.  
James didn't stop to think – dropped down low, he dropped his torch from his right hand, grabbed his Vektor CP1 from his hip and shoved a hand up the robot's ribcage before pulling the trigger and firing upwards. A bright, powerful, energy pulse emanated from the barrel of the pistol and lit up the empty skeleton of the drone, its head blew off like a cork from a bottle, cracked nicely against the roof of a nearby house and landed, then to James' horror in one of sense-pads that had been mounted on the walls, at which point alarms began to blare like heck all around.

For a moment, James stood quite still: a thin young man, silhouetted against the falling moon, standing in the ruins of a city, holding two guns, dressed in military kit, staring in annoyance at the severed head of a robot caught on the wall of a house. Then, swearing quite profusely, he leapt forward, plucked his torch up from the floor and backed hurriedly away into the ruins of a nearby house, where he nervously sweated it, clutching his big gun.  
Skynet Base Protocol they had learnt from Claudius Templesmith – the first mistake is okay, don't sweat it. The Skynet Base would send out small little seeker-drones, little silver orbs with guns that could be destroyed fairly easily, but let them catch you on their cameras, or activate the traps again, and the heavies would come in.  
And it was the heavies James was worried about it.  
Stilling his breathing, pressed against the wall, James cast his mind out, though his head was pounding, searching around for soldiers who might have come to attack with his claircognizance. James waited. For perhaps a minute. Silently. Alone.  
And then, the roof of the House blew off in an explosion that rocked James over, his ears heard only a high-pitched shriek, and the world was on fire, which quickly rolled off as the walls collapsed, the remains of the house disintegrated around him.

Then there was pain. A huge pain.  
He had landed perfectly on the tip of his elbow when he had fell, and that didn't seem to be movable at all. He couldn't hear a thing – his ears seemed to have whited out, and the pain in his head, that was like nothing else, it went on and on, echoing round, bursting through his ears, he had felt like his head was going to explode. He got to his feet, dropping his assault rifle which seemed to have bent out of shape when wreckage had landed on it, and drew his pistol, feeling slightly ridiculous holding the tiny weapon. He looked up just in time to see a second missile come careening towards him, straight towards the building, this one packed with the explosive power to turn him to dust.  
Desperately, so instinctively, he could do nothing but try, he snapped out a hand, facing the palm towards the incoming missile and concentrated with all his might, and the missile, trailing fire, across the sky, flying down towards him stopped in mid-air.  
James stood there and gasped, he thought he might pass out from the pain in his head, he flicked his wrist and the missile sailed down and impacted somewhere behind him, destroying the building next to what remained of his. His hands were shaking from the pain so he dropped his pistol, and swearing, as he stooped to reclaim it, a third missile came arcing towards him. James held up a hand and it stopped in mid-air again, and he screamed as though he was being stabbed in the middle of his forehead.  
One second, two seconds.  
He sent it spiraling off towards the atom-monument which rose up in a small mushroom cloud and rained down in fire.  
The pain in his head.  
His vision was blinding itself.  
The next missiles arrived at James lifted his pistol and shot them both, guiding the energy pulses to their target and they erupted into balls of flames, blasted out of the sky.  
The pain was too much, he found he could no longer control the missiles with his mind, but then his hands were shaking, he couldn't accurately shoot, so he did a combination, he stood there and defended himself for what seemed like hours.

And that was when, finally, the foot soldiers arrived.  
Pouring out like sand from a leaking bag, they flooded the square, and the missiles stopped, instead to be replaced by shells, fired from about 20 different guns each marked with a red triangle.

And that's now. Now when he's crouching behind the one remaining wall of the house he took for shelter, using his telekinesis through the pain of his mind, stopping rounds of bullets from reaching him while covering himself. He speaks, almost as rapidly as the gunfire, into his wrist computer, so, so desperately, trying to send a message out to Hunter and Julius but to no avail – his attempts are only met with the high-pitched scream that makes the already-unbearable pain in his head worse.  
That's time.  
Time spent, lost, wasted, crouching behind in a poor excuse for shelter, paining himself more in his own efforts to keep the bullets away. About 30 of them, probably only from half of the soldier's clips, hover sadly around him, some blocked by the wall, some revolving slowly around, before dropping and being replaced by new ones in a constant cycle.  
The agony.  
All that's keeping him alive is his telekinesis.

And that's when he decides it.  
If it's keeping him alive, his telekinesis, it might as well stop them being alive. He leaps up and over the top of his cover, and fires a great discharge of energy blasts down towards the reloading troops, staying in the air about 2 seconds longer than any normal person could, his tiny Vektor CP1 flashing through the air, once, twice, three times, all around him in a circle, the lights searing across his retinas, each movement, each shot causing him pain.  
But at last, his weapon having fired 20 times, he's left hovering in mid-air, all alone. 20 unconscious soldiers lie around him. He slowly floats back to the ground.  
It's fine – he's defeated them all. The after-effects of the battle? He'll be able to cope. They'd got through what seemed to be Skynet's guard patrol. Now it only remained to infiltrate. Right?

James stoops down in the middle of the street to the nearest infantry-soldier and pulls off the helmeted-man's wrist-computer. He spends about 2 minutes to attempt to work it, pressing every button in sight before examining it carefully – it's much heavier than his own wrist-computer and actually has an imprint on the side, a single word – 'Holo'. James checks it over and suddenly the screen lights up with communicator functions and its own radar. Smiling, he dumps his own incessantly beeping wrist computer and attaches this one to himself, quickly scrolling through the communicator and locating the ri ght wave-length to send a message to Hunter. Something quickly catches his eye – a grid-layout of the area is also visible on the screen, showing his own position with a read-arrow and reading heat signatures from the neighboring area. And on top of that, the sense-pads that are mounted with every building are marked with a thin, green rectangle, labelled as 'Pods' on his device.  
Brilliant. James proceeds and steps through the compound back the way he came.  
Before…  
On his wrist computer, the map, he had already opened it. And, just visible now, on the edge of its spectral vision, clearly visible as red heat signatures, are several troops, incoming quickly, by the looks of it, holding heavy weapons, and coming this way from trap-doors behind him.  
James curses and sprints back towards the Wall, keeping track of the Holo's positioning of the troops and drawing his Vektor pistol.  
About 50 of them, all Skynet troops, they run swiftly behind him, moving so it is unobvious if they have spotted him or not.  
James keeps to the side and ducks behind a ruined pillar. Then he curses as he spots another group of them, out in front, already at the gates, running. Heading straight for his two companions. He taps into his holo and scrolls through the communications before typing out a message to Hunter – ' JH to HSM: They know you're there. They're coming, quickly and in huge numbers. Draw them away, then come and cover me. I'm in a little bit of trouble. ~James' and he hits send just as hears gunshots fired towards him. Swearing once again, he ducks to the right and runs down a narrow alleyway which is now towards the edge of the city. Peeking out, he sees a small band of troops who were apparently travelling separate to the main group veer down towards him, about 5 in all. James concentrates with all his might and shuts his eyes. Slowly, he lifts of the ground travelling higher in that darkened alley until they pass under him; he drops and spins and fires, his pistol flashing once, twice, five times before he's alone again. A sweat breaks on his forehead as he departs, running low – using powers like that come at a great cost. Nothing but pure adrenaline is keeping him going now.

It's exactly like training, Hunter tells himself. Only each shot he fired whistled through the air and struck, not the papery, non-lethal target in a shooting-range, but cleaved through layers of armor and skin before carving the life out of another man. Assuming of course, he hit. The last shots he fired re xcently had missed completely when Julius had hit the guy a second before Hunter could pull his trigger, and as the Skynet guy dropped, causing Hunter's bullets to sky overhead and slam into the windows behind, shattering them. Julius laughed at him for like, 10 minutes before the next wave came. Julius seemed to have an unlimited store of cartridges stashed away which he could constantly give to Hunter, which was lucky because Hunter had run out after the first round that had been incoming. Generally they tried to shoot them in various non-fatal places, which wasn't easy most of the time, but sometimes, either when the soldier was too well covered or was actually posing a threat, they were forced to react lethally. But then again, these were the evil bastards who had bombed a bunch of Capitol strongholds across Panem and fired a goddamn Jericho Missile at the Capitol. Whatever they got they deserved. And as Julius and Hunter departed from their camp, leaving behind about 30 bodies in a ring around their cover, they didn't know the number who were dead and who were just unconscious. It seemed purely to be a lottery. Whatever they got they deserved.  
Moving quickly towards the walls, they find the turrets still mounted perfectly, the searching spotlights sweeping.  
Instantly, Hunter and Julius separate, Julius rolling across the ground to a cover on the right, and moving swiftly forward until his back was pressed against the wall, in a similar way to James had before. He gives Hunter a thumbs-up and Hunter spins round and dives over his cover, rolls and fires, a perfect shot at the turret at the top. His shot riddles the first one with bullet, which sparks miserably and collapses, but the second one spins round and begins firing at him; Hunter dives to the side and keeps its attention, giving Julius just enough time to place a charge on the wall and sprint away for cover.  
There's a brief pause as silence seems to stand, then…  
A massive explosion rocks the ground, a massive hole blasts open in the wall. There's another second while Julius stands and looks around. Hunter is nowhere to be seen.  
Then, slowly at first, but with a noise like a thunderclap, the wall sags then begins to fall, scraping against itself and causing the gates to collapse; a few soldiers at the top scream and attempt to jump down before the second turret falls with a massive 'clash', tottering over, then bending its supports on the garrison and landing in a burning wreckage on the floor below.  
Julius stands alone in the wreckage.  
There's a groan from somewhere to the left.  
Panic. Anxiety. Fear.

He sprints there and pulls aside the wreckage to find Hunter trying to get up, a bullet clearly lodged in his shoulder.  
Even when James is returning there's the slow and overruling feeling of fear and hatred left over from Hunter as Julius pulls out a knife and digs the bullet out of his flesh.

James – he's running.  
As always.  
Behind him, like some scene out of a crazed film, a battalion of armed soldiers chase him.  
Concentrating on nothing but running, he sends some energy into his legs using his telekinesis, his stride twice the length and speed of its norm.  
He's so, nearly at the path to the gate.  
With a burst of speed he clears the city, the last of the houses falls behind him, and there's only an open road.  
Made it.  
He's free.  
And then 2 hovercrafts pull up overhead, their broad spotlights beaming down throughout the road, illuminating James.  
Without even the strength to swear, James dives off the road into the grass by the side, using what cover he could, and aimed his gun upwards. The two hovercrafts skated around in the sky, desperately searching for him and he slowly, slowly, aimed for the second one.  
He exhales.  
Then, ever so carefully, he fires.  
The bolt of energy, one of the last in the cartridge of his Vektor, flames into the sky, illuminating the area for just a second. The hovercraft, number 1, flying swiftly over, a fair distance away from its assaulted partner, swerves suddenly backwards and signals its friend quickly, who just notices the approaching missile. It swerves. The energy bolt, racing upwards, about to strike the pilot's bay perfectly, just skims past the very nose of the craft, the majority of the shot racing on into the night, but a small section striking the metal plating and then there's fire. The hovercraft, number 2, twists and falls, spinning, then flying upside down, veering desperately away from the path. Hovercraft 1 follows it, swinging away just as it rights itself but then flies off back towards the city, its engine on fire, its path looking somewhat uncontrollable.  
Smiling for the first time in hours, James gets up and is already sprinting back towards the Wall.

Or where he thought the Wall was. As he arrives all he sees is flaming wreckage – where the wall once mightily stood, only pieces of masonry stand, the imposing turrets that had caused him so much bother coming in were clearly unusable on the ground and the remains of the fort which had stood on top of the gate were strewn around the grass.  
How?  
There's a shout. James turns to see Julius and Hunter limping over, looking miserable, but alive, somewhat injury-less, though it's clear Hunter is suffering. And badly.  
James meets their eyes and instantly he knows what's happened.  
He lets Hunter use him as support and the three of them walk like some kind of lopsided race over back to a spot where they can camp. Towards the ruined city.

Towards safety. They've been through the worse of the fight. Now it's time for the calm before the storm. The rest of the base awaits invasion.  
With the vanguard of Skynet's army down, surely the only destruction that awaits will be commanded by the three of them.  
James, supporting Hunter, who braved the offensive army, he himself having destroyed the others.  
Julius, who destroyed the offensive army, walking close behind.  
Down the path.  
Towards the city.  
To exterminate the few survivors that remained.

And then, as the slow mist rose up over the flat mass of land that flooded around the city buildings, shadows started to move out of the shadows. James looks up in alarm, nudging Hunter to stand up straight for himself, the three of them stop their awkward procession and Julius immediately draws his binoculars to the movement that is on the path right in front of them. That path, the most open ground that they could possibly have picked, no cover apparent in sight, the D13 walls at least a kilometer behind, and the city and equal distance in front.  
And that moving figure, about half that distance, blocking their path, Julius trains his sharp eyes on the figure. A body, well-armored and well-armed, clad clearly in Skynet reds, moving at an alarming velocity directly towards them.  
5 seconds.  
That's the time Julius needs to instantly identify the weaknesses on the body and draw the sniper rifle from his side, fixing the laser pointers on the figure an entire half-kilometer away and sharpening his focus.

He slowly exhales.  
"Got him." he nods to James, who has taken several steps forwards and is looking worryingly at the distance.  
"Him?" Comes the reply.  
"Him." Julius confirms, and with the precision and practice of a person who has done the action a thousand times before and feels nothing from it, he pulls the trigger and watches through his scope with satisfaction as the figure drops, a bullet hole in the center of his head.

"Him?" says James.  
And Julius looks up to see a whole line of soldiers now overtaking the body of their flag-commander that had just been dropped, filling the entire expanse of horizon, and stretching back as far as the city.  
Moving closer.  
Very, very quickly.

"There's at least a thousand of them!" screams Hunter, and James can only nod in confirmation as he draws his own firearm and urges Hunter to do the same.  
There's no cover.  
There's no backup.  
There's only this.

The army begins running towards them, a silent mass of bright red, clearing the distance in a miserly short time, Julius and Hunter empty cartridge after cartridge and James fires his phaser-pistol at the center of the mass, watching the bright glow sink into the crowd, showing little effect.  
Julius and Hunter have more luck – without fail every round meets a target, either from the skill of the two operatives, or from the sheer number of enemies that are bearing down on them, the army reaches clears about half the distance to them when the entire front row goes down a mass of bloodlust from Hunter's gun, and the second row stumbles on the first and is immediately trampled by those following… but there are a lot following.  
Any moment now, they'll be upon them.

And upon them they are.  
A single unit, a massive army, all under the name of Skynet, militants to the very last one, all running to stampede just the three of them.  
Except they don't.  
At the distance of only about 200 metres away, when the end seems inevitable, and the bullets are running low, they all halt from an invisible force and draw their guns.  
800 men, at point blank range, they raise their barrels and fire.

A hail of rounds straight towards the three of them.  
Un-dodgable, unstoppable, completely lethal.  
Julius makes a three-finger salute in front of his heart and holds it to the sky as a final salute.

Then James steps out and says a Word.  
The word is inaudible and unrecallable, but in that single instant, the entire focus and power of James is in that single moment, every last breath of strength he has, and a pulse shines out from his body where he's standing and the bullets stop in mid-air.  
Those that would have missed the three of them are allowed to fly off into the distance, but forming a perfect, dense arc in front of them, slowly turning in their places a meter off from the ground, several hundred shining-silver bullets, stopping just a few steps in front of James, and thus away from Hunter and Julius.

James – visibly sweating, his teeth cold as though they've been doused in ice, his eyes, expanding and condensing at the same time, with water droplets appearing the air around him. He look blankly ahead, his hand raised like some kind of movie character, stepping forward instinctively, as the bullets stay in an arc in front of him and move with him.  
He looks forwards, coldly towards the unchanging faces of the innumerable Skynet forces, and he moves towards them, rounds floating in mid-air with him.  
They don't move, don't flee.  
James respects them from that.  
Few attempt to fire again, and James deals easily with those, they join those surrounding him, slowly rotating.  
He smiles.  
For the first time.  
Complete control, yet at such a price.  
The sky brightens as though welcoming this change, and James looks up as he walks, face beaming brightly to welcome the glorious new light that fills the above.

And that glorious new light, it shines bright down at him, swiveling round and screaming out as the engines roar.  
Then it fires.

Hovercrafts have two gun ports – on either side of the wings they're mounted, marked with twin red triangles of Skynet, both charges empty, and gunfire rains down on the three of them.  
Julius dives to the side, dragging Hunter with him, and fires his own return shots, but James, James, for that split second, he loses his control. Hundreds of bullets hurtle towards him as he slumps for a split second, then the hand's there again, holding off them all, having only let them move a few metres closer.  
But a single one of those bullets could end his life, he knows that, and this is clearly no time to be careless. He finally looses the arc of bullets, pointing his hand upwards, and every single one of them flies into the belly of the hovercraft at a tremendous speed – instantly the vehicle sparks out, screaming down and careening down, down towards the line of Skynet men that hadn't moved before but now flee as the burning jet crashes among their ranks.

Hovercraft.  
James is left alone.  
But there were two of them.  
Weren't there?  
Two that James had dealt with.  
One he had left with a fiery belly, and the other one untouched.  
And so, that one must be…

He turns just to see the one with the fiery belly swoop down towards him, and he ducks instinctively and raises a hand to control it but he can't, great fire-bombs are dropped towards him and he sweeps his hand to stop them and they go sailing away.  
He points and they fly upwards and slam into the tail of the hovercraft, making it scream angrily and turn, getting ready to release its payload, but finding its out of range from James, it spins round and fires, the shot going wildly away from him.  
He laughs, watching the arc as it sails through the air, nowhere near where he's standing on the path, in fact in the direction of the wall, back to the section of road which is empty.  
Empty.  
Except.

No.  
He sees the road.  
The tiny glimmer of lights that are a reflection from Hunter's gun.  
And he meets Hunter's eyes just as the missiles fall and detonate, creating a massive fireball around him and Julius.  
In a second there's a burst of light that fills the sky.  
Then.  
Nothing.

No.  
James runs towards them.  
Towards the fire, towards the destruction.  
And a single shot strikes him squarely in the shoulder.  
Snarling, he turns round and sees the squadron of soldiers, perfectly ranked again, all with guns raised.  
And firing.

But James can play too.  
And in a single motion, uncaring of the consequences any more, not caring if he does damage to himself, he opens his arms wide and screams.  
The bullets flying towards him dissolve into pure dust, he runs towards them and every shot they fire, meets the very air before him and dissolves into nothingness.  
There is nothing any more.  
His two friends are gone.  
This is not complete control.  
This is one stage past that.  
He reaches the line of soldiers and spins, his fists clenched, his anger directed on the single crowd and the soldiers dissolve into dust around him.  
The hovercraft above, the one that did the deed, he focuses all his power, uncaring if it all gets used up in this moment, and it gives out an ungodly noise before its nose tips down, forcibly and hits the ground in front of him.  
James spins his head back round to the mass of soldiers, some are beginning to run and he turns his attention to them, watching with blank eyes as they dissolve up into the night sky as single bits of dust and then nothing more.  
Still more arrive, still more surround him, forming a vast, hollow crowd around him as he finds them, kills them, each and every.  
They did this.  
They will pay.  
And he will get them, all of them.  
He is in absolute power, making them…

Falling.  
Down, down.  
A vast blackness from the ground has swallowed him up, and he clutches desperately at the moon and stars as they fly away from him above.  
Falling down, into the bottomless abyss, the earth around him rising ever higher.

The ground gave way, there's a ringing in his ears from some above explosion, and until he hits the bottom, inevitably, he's falling, his power broken, his mind closed.  
And he does hit the bottom.  
And it's not the bottom of a tunnel, or earth warren.  
It's a metallic shaft, kept and maintained.  
Wallpapered with red triangles until the very bottom.  
Where he lies, eyes closed, heart beating.  
A door opens from the side and a woman and armed guards come and lift his body out.

TO BE CONTINUED IN ''R' IS FOR REVELATIONS'


	10. R is for Revelations

**67TH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES**

**A GAME OF DRONES**

* * *

**FACEBOOK/Panem616/photos/pb.535825266536737.-2207520000.1414796378./684884571630805/**

THE GAMEMAKERS' CUT - PART 7

''R' is for Revelations'

Interrogation – SN00107

Date: 14.02, 67 years after revolt

Location: Interpellation Room 3, Bowle Base 1, District 13

Subject 0110 is sitting handcuffed to a metal chair. PAC stands with two guards about two metres away from the table, arms folded; an invisible bullet-proof glass sheet stretches across the room in that distance.

The following transcription is taken at 0230 hours.

PAC: Name, James Lucas Howlett. Occupation: Gamemaker for the Capitol. Current Operation: Infiltration Mission for the agency known as 'Panem-616' to the hostile agency known as the 'Skynet'. Is that information accurate?

0110 remains silent, his face has contorted into an odd kind of rage, or is it confusion? PAC is motionless, waiting patiently, 0110 has tilted his head slightly and is now staring unblinkingly into the eyes of PAC, then the two guards either side. His expression is unchanging.

PAC: Is that information correct?

0110 pauses shortly, then

0110: Yes.

0110 answers with a slight nod of his head.

PAC: What was your purpose at the Skynet?

0110: Who are you?

0110 has interrupted PAC and the two guards either side have immediately drawn their weapons and have them trained on 0110's forehead. PAC waves an arm to pacify them before responding.

PAC: I am President Alma Coin, of the District 13 senate, leader of the rebels here. You will answer my questions.

0110: Alma. Coin.

0110 examines and enunciates the name slowly, looking decidedly confused and apparently completely occupied with thought. The tests we took earlier from him suggest there is a possibility he has sustained brain damage from the fall, listed in report 106.

0110: I know that name…

PAC: What was your purpose in your mission at the Skynet?

0110 still remains in his confused state, staring blindly at PAC's face and at the light above her. This is quickly replaced with, as PAC speaks, a look that can only be classed as 'Denial', he seems to be attempting to be completely impassive at his interrogators. PAC gives a nod at which point one of the two guards (Mitchell, though his visor is pulled down giving him no identifiable features) goes over to 0110 and places his hand on his throat, ready to perform a Latier test when suddenly 0110 stands up straight, jerking his head up to strike the under-side of 0110's chin, it is suddenly apparent 0110 broke through one of his ankle shackles and Mitchell recoils in pain. 0110 lunges forward with both hands as they are cuffed together, but Mac (the other guard), is at his side quickly, pulling him back to the chair and restraining him while Mitchell re-cuffs and secures 0110.

0110 begins to shout at PAC.

0110: You did this, didn't you? It's gone! It's empty. I can't any more, can't… sense. What did you do!?

PAC stares back at him, before consulting her Holo, searching through the files of the tests just taken.

PAC: If you are referring to your extra-sensory perception abilities, which were in use against a legion of the Skynet soldiers, they appear to have fluctuated in ability when a Grade 3 electric pulse was sent through by the Skynet soldiers which collapsed Tunnel 16 through an EMP bomb, it appears what you refer to as your powers ceased to function from then on. You then fell an altitude of 700 meters before hitting the ground in the Skynet shuttle bay on the edge of the Neutral Zone where we rescued you, following a firefight with the pursuing Skynet retrieval team. You may have suffered brain damage, both in function and in mentality. Your body was functionally sound however.

0110 takes a minute to process all this, this look of confusion seems permanently etched upon his face and his hands twitch as splay out, as though trying to influence the objects around him, but to no effect. PAC smiles slightly.

0110: Where am I?

PAC: You are in a District 13 holding bay, 5 miles out from the city, where we collected you, near to our Central Base of operations.

0110 struggles against his restraints. He spits out the words he says to PAC he takes

0110: Why?

PAC gestures with her hands as she explains, acting as though exasperated that 0110 is asking the questions, but in reality she's telling 0110 exactly what she wants to, and it's for that reason she continues.

PAC: After the District War, or the First District War I should say, the Capitol made an official statement to the rest of Panem, instructing that it should never happen again, and giving a warning by sending hovercrafts to our city, killing 50,000 of our citizens, including the two leaders of our revolution. You are aware of this, I'm sure. They announced the total eradication of District 13, but this was not true. Two-ninths of the population lived in the old-city, underground, and they survived the attack, preparing their own response hovercrafts. They attacked the Capitol on the 14th of the 7th month, that same year, destroying Sektor 5 of Midtown Capitol, you won't find that in your Capitol history books. It was for that reason we agreed peace with the Capitol and why we were crossed off their Reaping lists.

What followed here however, is another question. I arrived after the 50th Hunger Games, as you may know, and when I arrived, there were 2 parties living here, those that wished to strike back at the Capitol, and run Panem to the ground, those called themselves the Skynet organisation, and live in their base directly underneath the ruined city, then there's us, peacetime citizens who value Panem as a whole and thus are happy to exist as an independent state to Panem and survive, though one day we will strike back at the Capitol, but the Capitol alone, and not the Districts. And we hate the Skynet operatives who sit on our land, occupying our base, causing only unrest.

0110: You're not Skynet?

PAC: No. And we never will be.

0110 sits forwards, a slight sound is heard as the chains of his cuffs are heard against the table and he looks forward straight at PAC.

0110: Will you fight with us then? Help us take down Skynet, help heal me and restore me from this disempowered state? In return I can give you security from the Capitol, make sure no further agents are sent to you here, organise a safe collaboration to remove those squatters from here?

PAC: We have already healed you. You came here with level 3 injuries to your head and left leg, we have treated those and taken tests to assure your functionality. Your 'powers' we can do nothing about, but aside from those gestures of good-will, we will not get involved with the affairs of your Capitol. After this meeting is over, you will be free to leave this compound and make your own way back, with the weapons you came here with, for there is trouble with Skynet troops at the Triskelion, but no further meeting between our organisation and yours will be permitted.

0110 bows his head, a frown curling onto his forehead, an angry, or miserable expression growing on his mouth-corners, until he looks up again and back at PAC with something akin to acceptance.

0110: Okay. I will answer your questions.

End of report Part 1.

Recorded by Special Agent Boggs.

James is ushered out of the District 13 compound and through what appears to be a warren of tunnels which break to the surface only after a mile or so. There he is left by the two guards from the interrogation and he finds himself alone, on an empty, flat land near to where he first started with Hunter and Julius by his side. He's wearing his blood and mud-splattered clothes and holding his two guns.

He's looking slightly confused, but then he begins to walk. Back the way he came, to the nearest District which happens to be 12, in the hope of getting a ride to the Capitol.

He feels… nothing. There's no tingling feeling on the edge of his fingers when he stretches his hands out, there's no wonder as he casts his mind out. He feels dead inside.

There's nothing he cares for any more, he's just going to go back to the safety of the Capitol.

And then he remembers President Coin said something about danger at the Triskelion.

Skynet danger.

And he starts running.


End file.
